To Hell On A Church Pew
by Echoless Dreamer
Summary: Three counts of shoplifting. Five counts of trespassing on private property. Four counts of destruction of private property. And one previous arrest for underage drinking. For Mail Jeevas, or Matt, the rules were just too boring to follow. Therapy, court sessions. Then his parent's turn to step in, forcing him into a church group. At least he could meet a few hot Christian girls.
1. Chapter 1

Let's see, up until this point in time, I've been in juvenile hall about six times. That's gotta be some kind of record. First order of business, avoid all eye contact. I'm just staying the night. Second order of business, figure out where the hell my Gameboy is. I either left it back at that stoplight, or the officers confiscated it again. In all seriousness, I have absolutely no clue where it is, but then again, I bought it at the flea market for less than ten bucks. I could get a new one. It's the game I'm worried about. You don't just lose Pokemon Yellow. You don't.

Now. I shift my shoulders a bit against the back of my chair. Only a little while before they call my parents again. This was getting so old. 'Oh, let's arrest the kid who did nothing again, that's always good for curing boredom!' Ha. Ha. I'm laughing so hard in my head at absolutely nothing again. Mostly because I'm one hundred percent aware that I'm not innocent at all, but it's not like anyone died, right? Yeah, I was drinking whiskey in a parking lot, it's not like hundreds of other people haven't done it. Besides, there's only so much of Team Rocket's bullshit I can take while I'm sober.

This waiting room could really use some more decorations. Well, there's a bench and a chair, obviously the better choice is a chair. I mean, it's just common sense. If I have to wait in here for one of my parents to pick me up, I am not going to sit on a rock hard bench for an hour. Or…half an hour? Again, there's literally nothing in this room. Not even a clock. They should get a clock. Although, this chair should stay. I happen to really like this chair. It's comfortable.

I lean my head back against the wall and continue to stare at the ceiling. They even took my goggles and jacket. How rude. If I'd done something incredibly serious, it'd be understandable. Because underage drinking is serious. Right. Okay.

Someone opens the door, and I slide my eyes over to see who it is. Oh. Great. Another officer.

"Mail Jeevas. Hey, I haven't seen you in a while." Lady cop. Okay then. She looks pretty young though. Not half bad. Not half good either.

"Does everyone around here know my name?" I snort. She rolls her eyes. Wow, real professional, lady.

"Your mom's out at the front desk." And then she's out the door. This day keeps getting better and better. Actually, it has been. Except the minor Pokemon misplacement. Speaking of which….

I stand up and make my way to the door, slipping out into the hallway, dragging my feet with every step. Man, I know this hall way too well. Left turn takes me to the detention cell, right turn to second hallways and front desk. They should really consider mixing things up a bit for people like me who are in here too much for nothing. Juvenile court is way too predictable. Everything's all organized, which means breaking out of this place and making a run for it would be easy, but I've been cleared of charges, so I really shouldn't complain. Not that they'd prosecute me anyways, as far as they know, I'm just a troubled kid that they can fix.

As expected, my mother's talking to the man behind the counter again when I get up there. She's got my jacket folded over her arm, and the second she sees me, her dark blue eyes light up. If not for our eyes, people wouldn't even know we were related. Whatever, not like I wanted to have blonde hair or anything like the rest of my siblings. Nah. My hairs cool. Okay, that's a flat out lie.

"Maaaatt!" She calls and gives me a death hug the second I get over to her. I make a choking sound so she's aware. The nickname comes from my dad, but I guess I adopted it because I'm the only other guy in the family.

"Mom, can we just go now, please? It's like…..one in the morning." I groan. She just frowns at me and hits me on the top of the head. I recoil from her touch and she folds her arms in response.

"Well, someone should have thought about that before getting themselves arrested again, hmm?" My mom says this matter-of-factly, like she's right. Not like I wanted to sleep, I just didn't want to wake up in jail again, because somehow that seemed like hell compared to my house. Which wasn't much of a difference, but whatever.

"I didn't get myself arrested, the police arrested me because apparently alcohol is a problem." This earns a sympathetic laugh from my mom, but she grabs my arm and practically drags me out the front door. Hmm. About the same as last time, she probably talked to some people and got me off. Which is helpful, but the conversations that follow are not.

She parked in the front space again. Typical. In and out, as always. But, I'd imagine that no parent wants to learn that their kid ended up in prison, again. Then again, this was my mom.

I swing the passenger side door open again, feeling how loose the handle is. We should get that looked at. You know, eventually. Eventually. My mother's already started the car and begun driving before I even get both feet in.

"Hey, watch it!" I yelp, pulling the door closed as she pull out of the parking lot.

"So. Who were you making out with when you got arrested this time?" My mom growls at me, but I can see the edge of a smile on her face. Wait. What did she just say?

"Wha- No one! I got arrested for drinking, remember?" She scoffs at me and makes a sharp turn so I fling to the right and hit my head on the window. I snarl over at her and buckle my seatbelt so she'll stop driving like a madman.

"Yeah, every time you drink, you end up making out with some girl, so go ahead and tell me. Was it that slut Kennedy or Marielle?" I shake my head and bury my forehead in my hands again.

"Neither, Mom, I'm not having this conversation with you." She snorts and slams on the brakes as the light in front of us flashes yellow. This sends me flying forwards until the seatbelt starts choking me. My mother, being such a great parent, finds this hilarious and has to cover her face to keep from laughing. I just shrug it off.

"Oh, so this was a new girl you got drunk and naked with." Then the laughter continues even when the yellow light turns from that to red, and then to green. I slide lower and lower in my seat.

"I wasn't drunk. Okay, maybe I was, but I was drunkenly playing Pokemon, and I'm not having this conversation with you." Another snort. I roll my eyes. But then I hear a rustling sound and then there's something blue being flashed at my face. My Gameboy…. I attempt to snatch it, but my mom's somehow quicker than me.

"You are having this conversation if you want your Pokemans back." My nostrils flare.

"One, No, I'm not. Two: It's PokeMON!" I reach of the game again, but she tosses it to the floor and kicks it under her seat with a smug look on her face.

"Matt, sweetie, we aren't Jamaican." Resisting the urge to hit something, I just hit myself on the forehead again. Another stop light. Great. Something hits my shoulder and then falls into my lap. My goggles. There's a scuff on the right lens, right where it should be. And now she's resorted to throwing my stuff at me.

"Thanks." I mutter and slide the back onto my head where they belong, avoiding my mother's gaze.

"Next time, I'm not bailing you out. Also, your dad isn't too happy with you at the moment, so I'd avoid getting arrested at all costs." How is she able to keep this conversation normal sounding? I have no idea, but I should learn.

"Why is Dad always the one who gets mad, why not you?" I ask while kicking my feet up on the dash. She swats them off as the light turns green.

"Because your sister was just as bad at your age, and I wasn't there to deal with it, so I'm not going to deal with you." My mother blows a strand of blonde hair out of her face and tightens her grip on the wheel. Although I have more than one sister, I know exactly which one she's talking about, so I fall silent.  
"Now, when we get home, you're going to your room. I left extra food in your secret stash that you assumed I knew nothing about, and there's extra batteries for all of your systems." The smile on her face returns as the car makes a left turn.

"Wait, how long have you known about the stash?" I sit straight up and frown. No one's supposed to know. I'm supposed to be a squirrel.

"When did you start adding my Sour Cream and Onion chips to it?" My mother looks like she's trying to be serious but just absolutely can't. You can't take Sour Cream and Onion chips seriously. I find it incredibly difficult.

"That was the first food I added." I growl and lean back in my seat again until it feel like the seatbelt is a noose.

"You're going to choke yourself like that." She glances over at me. I give up on attempting an answer and just slide down lower. I hear her sigh and I do the same, continuing to put my feet on the dashboard again. This time, she doesn't do anything to stop me. We're almost home anyways.  
"Matt, you're almost nineteen. They're going to start actually prosecuting you and not just asking for bail money. This is about to get really serious if you don't. No more drinking outside the house, no more hanging out with those girls, no more. I should be less lenient, because I'm starting to feel like a failure. Matt. I don't want you to end up in jail, got it?" Her tone suddenly gets sharper. But all I can do is nod like it's not a big deal.

Which it really isn't.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note:  
First off; thank you to fineontheoutside for leaving a review! It really means a lot ^_^  
Now, on to the seriousness. *squeals* I lied. I can't be serious, I'm having way too much fun with this! So yeah! Also, this is just going to be Matt's point of view for now, I might shuffle it up later, but as this develops...we may/may not run into some other characters o3o. Jeese, I need to shut up now...  
Okay! Just remember to leave a review if you read and enjoyed, I'd love to hear your feedback :D :D  
*dramatic pose*  
~Echo

* * *

Music is the world's greatest pain reliever. Sure, you got your gamers and your writers, you got your normal people and you got your weirdoes. But all in all, it comes back to music. Unfortunately, I don't have much of a selection on my IPod, of which it has been used at least seven years and should be replaced but I'm too lazy to save up for it. Plus, as soon as I get the money, they're going to release a new game and then I'll forget about music and go blow all my money on that. So yeah.

They're yelling again, and there's no music loud enough to drown it out. Yeah, they're my parents and all, but only my dad really seems to care that I keep getting taken in by the cops. It's not his problem. But it suddenly becomes my problem when he thinks it is. Ick. I roll over on my bed a little too far and fall over onto the floor. Gee. How lovely. My earphones pop out of place, and I scramble to grab them again, but not before I hear their voices.

"Three kids was more than enough, we don't need him around if he's just going to screw everything up!" Gee, Dad. That's great motivation. I growl and force myself to my feet, barging to the door and flinging it open to shout down the hall.

"Hey, asshole, guess what? I CAN HEAR YOU!" I slam the door closed and flop down on the floor. Where did my mom put my DS? She swore she'd stop taking it.

Music. Music. Music. Okay, my first choice is automatically Avril Lavigne. Not that that's a bad thing. I know at least four other guy really into her music, but it's not like an obsession. Which means I can't talk about her or her music as much as I'd like to. Sue me, she's cute and she's a good singer. Not a lot of people can pull it off. In order to avoid all this, I'll need more than just music. I need to talk to someone.

The phone my parent's got me is ancient, not so much as bad as a flip phone, but it sure as hell isn't touch screen. But it's something. And I'm okay with that. Even the smartest people I know can't figure this bad boy out, which means it's all mine. Plus, they do make some decent cases for it, which makes up for the ugly exterior. Although, I've only got about twelve contacts. More than enough. Well not really. About eight of them are ex-girlfriends. Let's see…. The only two I'm even on speaking terms with is Kennedy and Marielle. Both of which think it's great to hang out together and make me feel like a complete and total dick, but whatever.

Kennedy or Marielle. I've had to make this choice before. Marielle. That's a better option. I curl up into a cross-legged position to type.

**Hey, hey, Mari. It's me. **

Sighing, I turn my music back up, just in time for What The Hell to come back on. A personal favorite. The phone goes off.

**What the hell do you want, I was reading. **

I laugh a bit. That sounds too much like her. But I stop myself. She's an ex. And I've moved on. Duh.

**I got arrested. **

Is it bad that my ex-girlfriend is always the first to know these things? Yeah, probably. A minute later I get a response. She's always been a slow typer.

**Congratulations, I bet you'll make a fabulous prison bitch, now stfu, I'm reading. **

My nostrils flare as I attempt to text faster, which ultimately fails, but oh well, I tried.

**What are you reading this time**

What The Hell ends and the next song starts playing, but I hurriedly change it back and put it on loop.

**Percy Jackson. Now shut the hell up or I will come to your house and strangle you.**

Gee, Marielle. And you keep wondering why you can't get any guy. But any guy after me would be pretty bland, so it doesn't seem like the safest bet.

There's a knock at my bedroom door, but I'm too caught up in this song to care. Should I care? If it's my dad, he'll just keep knocking until I answer. If it's my mom, she'll just come right on in like it's her room. Well. It's their house. They can do what they want. The door creaks open and my gaze flickers up to see my mother poking her head in through the door through hanging blonde bangs. I see her mouth move, but over the sound of singing, I can't hear it. She opens the door all the way and folds her arms. I groan and pull out my earphones. Even though they're not in my ears, I can still hear the beats. Jeesh. I should work on listening to music quieter. Nah.

"Are you proud of yourself?" My mom's tone sounds joking, but I can't tell from the look on her face. It looks like she just killed someone and might kill again. Knowing her, she probably would.

"Whaddya mean?" She shakes her head and walks into my room, shutting the door behind her with her foot, which she starts tapping the second the door is shut.

"About calling your father an asshole. That's kinda rude, don't you think?" I roll my eyes and glance down. I'm missing Avril Lavigne for this.

"Yeah, well, he said he didn't want me. Or Maggie. Or Scarlet. The last three kids were such a burden, I guess." I snort. Like I was a burden. I could so see my older sisters being annoying as hell. But me? No. I wasn't annoying at all.

"Well, if you would stop disobeying everything he said then he wouldn't be so rude towards you all the time. But. I did manage to convince him against just letting the judge prosecute you." My mom walks across the room and plops herself down on my bed. I have to change how I was sitting to face her again, and she made sure of it. The wall was my favorite spot though. Wall, chair, and then bed. My favorite spots in order. My earbuds were still blasting out music, so I had to fight the urge to sing along. Man, I need to work on that.

"And that would be? What, exactly?" I snap. She sighs.

"There's a church group. It's for people your age and older, and I even mentioned it this week to some of the other parents, the words gotten around and I know at least thirty people who are going. One of which, is you." There's a forced smile on her face.

"…..please accept that if you do send me to this place, there is a very high possibility that I will pick up a girl and bring her here." She snorts. Wow, Mom, so supportive.

"Marielle and Kennedy are going, their moms thought it would be good for them, too." Oh, God. No. Nope, not happening.

"Mother, if you truly loved me you would choke me to death right here and now. Or at least get me some rope so I can do it myself and get my one-way ticket to hell the easy way." I pretend to faint over on the floor. My mom doesn't seem as amused as I am by this, since the second I fall over she stands up and kicks me in the ribs. It's not a hard kick, but it's enough for me to get the point.

"Changing the subject, have you talked to Marielle at all?" If I should give a response, I choose not to. It's better not to answer that. Not like she knows the password to my phone anyways, but since it's awkwardly vibrating there in the ground, it's not like she didn't know already.

"Uh. Maybe?" I offer as a response, but she won't take it. My mom taps her chin and grins an evil grin.

"You know, of all the little whores you've brought around here, I like her the best." Okay, this conversation was starting to get a little one-sided.

"Marielle is not a whore." This earns me another kick in the ribs and an evil laugh from my mom. I grab her foot until she gives me a death stare. Today is not the day to attempt a revolution. Not yet. Not yet.

"That's right, Mattie, you're the whore." There's a pristine white smile on her face when she says this.

"I am not a whore!" I say, finally standing back up.

"No, son, you're a man whore who's going to church on Sunday whether he likes it or not." She smirks at me before starting to leave the room, opening the door after she kicks my phone and IPod across the room at me. At least she has the decency to close the door behind her, but not before I can shout my response.

"I'm moving out!" Her reply is faint, but it's just loud enough for me to hear.

"You wouldn't leave, we have fast Wi-Fi!" Dammit. She's right though, we do have fast Wi-Fi. So I guess that's worth church group. Yeah. That sounds about right to me.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note:  
*awkwardly freaking out* Okay, so I got two more reviews when I woke up and looked at my computer therefore I need to learn how to write faster. No? …..yea…..  
Anywho, it is tiiiime! For what, you ask? I don't know. But let's move on!  
Please remember to leave a review if you read and enjoyed, I'd love to hear feedback! :D :D  
*dramatic pose*  
~Echo

* * *

Sunday evening, formerly known as Zelda Marathon Day, now known as utter societal status death. My social life has officially died and gone to hell, as I will probably do shortly.

The church is on a hill. That pisses me off. It shouldn't, but it does. It's not like a little chapel on the side of a road that people could really care less about. It might as well be a full-fledged citadel on a river. Supposing there could be citadels on a river. Could there be? Yeah, probably.

"Matt." My mother snaps. The car is in park and I'm in the passenger seat again. Her hair isn't down like it usually is. It's messily pulled up in a bun.

"What." It's not a question, just a statement. Like I don't know. But I do. I'm not some idiot. Okay, maybe that's a bit of a stretch, but I'm not stupid.

"Get out of the car. Or else." I almost ask 'or else what', but I know perfectly well. Or else Dad will stop bailing me out. Or else I end up in jail. Right. Okay. Church group with all the people who have it out to get me, or go back to the house and wait for my dad to kill me in my sleep. What lovely options.

"…please don't make me…." She puts the car in drive and moves forwards, following the now growing trail of cars and trucks into a line. I watch the other kids getting out. Most of them look like the want to kill everyone else. A few of them look overly innocent. There's a lot more people here than I would have thought. But then again, from the size of this place, I doubt there's going to be a shortage of seats. The car in front of us. I recognize it. How could I not? It's Kennedy's. Great. At least I know she's here. Now I know my life is officially over. Then we're at the front of the line, and my mom reaches over and unbuckles my seatbelt for me.

"Out. One way or the other." She pulls my goggles off my head to where they're hanging around my neck. "Sorry, hon, not today." I open the door and wave a goodbye before hopping out and slamming it behind me.

I can name way too many people here. At least twenty. There's Nate River, this really irritating brat who skipped a grade back in elementary school and always stood everybody else up. He's basically an albino, but the look on his face most reflects my own. He looks like he's considering how long it would take to burn this bigass church to the ground. Not like I hadn't thought of that. But somehow, burning a church seemed better than being in a church. Or a burning church. That could be fun.

There's a decent sized group gathered in front of the entrance. On the steps - This place has marble steps. Maybe it's concrete, but it's clean enough to pass for marble. Not bad. Could be better though. Seeing as everyone else is over there, I walk away from the parking lot and head that way. A couple girls wave at me as I pass and I grin. That's better. Somewhat.

Off to the side, there's Marielle and Kennedy sitting next to each other, Marielle reading and Kennedy reading over her shoulder. They do not belong in the same vicinity, especially in the same vicinity as me, but they're the only people I know here. Unfortunately. I make my way over to them and sit a foot or so away. There's a huge difference between the two of them. More like three. Three huge differences. One, while Marielle wants me dead, Kennedy never stops bothering me or flirting. Usually the second option. Two, Kennedy's insanely popular and Marielle is a geek who has somewhere between four and five friends. Who are all guys. Me formerly included there. Three, Kennedy's a redhead who loves braids and Marielle's a blonde with hair shorter than mine. The one thing they have in common: Both of them dated me and as a result want to permanently end my love life.

"Hey, Matt!" Kennedy completely loses interested in what her friend was doing and scoots over to talk to me. I can see a few of the guys in the bigger group by the door shoot me looks. Like they wish they were me.

"Kenn, what did we say about associating with sluts?" And now she's growling, shooting irritated glares at me.

"Sorry, Mari, most sluts aren't this adorable." Kennedy squeaks. This earns her an eye roll from me and a slap on the back of the head from her friend. I glance back to the bigger group, taking in who all is here. About forty people, give or take. Quite the turn out. Actually, there's way more here than I thought there would be. But my attention immediately flies to the person talking to one of the other guys. Nate, to be exact. Their hair is a darker blonde then I've seen before. Pitch black skinny jeans. Black long sleeve shirt. Not bad.

"Hey, uh, Kenn, who's that chick over there talking to Nate?" I gesture in that direction, which the redhead follows before hitting Marielle a couple times on the shoulder. They exchange glances before looking at me and cracking up.

"That's….that's Mihael! And he's a guy!" Marielle manages to get out in between her and Kennedy's laughter.

"No no no no no! You shouldn't have told him! I wanted to see him go over there and start acting all cool and shit like he always does and then just Mihael all confused! That would have been hilarious!" Kennedy's laughter goes silent, but Marielle's has pretty much just stopped. And I'm glad she said something. Or else it would have ended up how the redhead had described it.

"You guys are laughing too loud, it's not that funny." The guy they had just dubbed "Mihael" turns around like he sensed something. There's a scar on the left side of his face. Well. His left, my right. But there's a dead stare in his eyes. Blue eyes. A really pretty blue. Wait what. No.

"Hehe, yeah. Most everyone calls him Mello though. It started over some weird thing about chocolate, but now it's like his actual name." Oh. So, like me, I guess? I have a real name, but I would never answer to it. It's like it doesn't even exist. So, Mello, huh? He's got a red colored rosary around his neck, and somehow it suits him. I like it. Wait what. He just seems interesting. That's all. It better be all.

He loses interest in our group of three and goes back to talking to the albino kid. However, his eyes are really pretty, enough to make me almost want to see more of them. Almost. Almost. I don't. Kennedy puts her arm around my shoulder like it's a normal thing she does. And it is. Every time she sees me. But I pay her no mind. I can't stop staring at this guy, who A) Should mean absolutely nothing, and B) Somehow looks more feminine than should be physically possible.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note:  
So, I started rereading this and noticed all the little things I did wrong and hate, but I guess that means there's gonna be a rewrite someday ._. Moving along, thank you so much for the reviews! ^_^ I'm really looking forward to this story. Sorry for not posting this right away, though.  
Please remember to leave a review if you read and enjoyed, it means a lot to hear your feedback! :D :D  
*dramatic pose*  
~Echo

* * *

Three things everyone should know about church group. One: It is boring as hell. Two: Every girl there was obviously either forced to go by their parents or a religious nut, therefore, if you are a guy, you can either have a slut or a girl who will never sleep with you. Three: They don't like it if you curse. At. All.

Of course, the only real upside is that fact that this specific church is literally two stories. Which you wouldn't think from the outside, but now that I'm in the main hall with the rest of the group, all I do is stick by Marielle. Hey, this is foreign territory and I don't have the slightest idea what I'm supposed to do at all. Oh, and there's also that little fact about splitting us up into two groups. The people in charge didn't expect this big a show. But that's all I've really gotten between the hushed whispers of the only four adults here and the loud chatter of random assholes in groups of four or five, discussing some random shit I could care less about. Mari's still got a book in her hands, and as far as I can tell, she's having trouble concentrating.

Goddamn. This is just getting irritating. Sure, everyone's moved from the steps to the interior, but that doesn't do anything. That is, until an older man in white starts yelling at everyone to be quiet. About time, man. He doesn't do anything else, just nod to a woman. She looks to be about twenty. Definitely twenty or older, judging by her looks. An overdose of blue lipstick that she somehow manages to pull off terrifically cracks into a small smile. I glance around, noticing a couple of other guys have the same thought I do. I'd like to learn a few things from her. But she doesn't do the talking. Another guy does.

"As happy as we are to see you all here, we're also incredibly scared of your massive number. Now, since we did counting and there's a little over fifty of you, could you all either take one giant step to the left or one giant step to the right?" A couple people scoff, but they still obey. And, hey, close enough. Kennedy has chosen to move to the left, so I took the obvious choice and moved away from her. Because being away from her is going to stop her. Right.

At least I get Marielle in my group. Wait. Why, again, was that a good thing? Oh right, it's not. Damn. But then again, I look around and there's that guy with the rosary again. His face is completely straight, compared to that of the lightheartedness of everyone else. For a split second, he glances over and glares at me with knowing blue eyes. Really, really pretty blue. Wait what.

It takes me a second to realize that, surprise surprise, the people in charge are still talking. Not that I was listening in the first place, but it somehow suddenly seems more important. But I can't be bothered to tune in anyways. The only thing I need to know is when not to talk and when not to move. So basically just watch what everyone else is doing. It's just great to think about how literally nothing has happened and I'm already ready to start hurting people from irritation.

Group One, not me, gets to go upstairs. How unlucky can I get? Not sure. This seems to top almost everything, since now I really want to see the upstairs. Okay, that's a bit of a lie, Group One got the woman in the blue lipstick. Lucky bastards. I'd rather have that than some guy in his late forties. I mean, he looks it. He probably isn't, the graying hair is throwing me off.

More good news, we get the Central Worship Room. Yeah, because that's totally a thing. Turns out, it kinda is. It's more like a regular church room if anything. There's typical church pews and an altar, but it's kind of gothic designed, like they couldn't get anything even remotely modern at all to even fit through those hugeass doors. Which they definitely could.

So, this particular pastor introduces himself as Gabriel. A biblical name for a man of God. How shocking. He has us all pick a seat, and I try to grab one next to Mari, but of course I fail and end up by myself over at the end of the row. Everyone's a bit spread out and much quieter now. Goddammit, bring back the noise. It's better than being surrounded by silence. But what do I know?  
Gabriel the Pastor tells us to introduce ourselves. He takes a seat on the altar, which is only a good four feet from one of the pews. Not that I counted, but I can almost tell from the third row. The third row is always the best place to sit. Across from where I sit, I can see Mari reading her book. She's exactly diagonal from where I chose to sit down, practically by myself.  
There's enough people that we take up quite a bit of room. About six rows or so. But still, no one speaks when Gabriel the Pastor speaks. Hmm. I can't decide if that's smart or not. He looks at the girl on the edge of the front row and tells her to say her name and something interesting about herself. She obeys.  
In order, names fly: Abagail, Triston, Khalil, Dewitt, Denny, Kaley, Yolande, Eve, and something else I couldn't even bother trying to pronounce. As for what they say about themselves, I'm not listening. At least, that's all before Mari's turn. She's sitting next to the blonde guy. Lucky. Wait what. No. I can hear her fold her book and clear her throat. She's shy, I remember that at least.

"I'm Mari, but with an I and not a Y. And….something interesting, right? I like Greek Mythology." Gabriel the Pastor frowns and comes back with a response.

"Mari, this is a house of God. We will have no other gods here." Man, what a dick. Mari's a good person. The blonde guy raises his hand and when Gabriel the Pastor nods at him, he leans forwards in his seat to speak.

"For the record, Greek Mythology holds no truth. Therefore, what you just said kinda comes off as rude." His voice is decently deep. It's kinda…..wait, no. No it's not. Gabriel the Pastor doesn't seem too amused.

"You're the one they warned me about, aren't you? Mihael Keehl?" He flinches like it stung. I wonder why, it's just a name, after all.

"I'd prefer Mello. I'd also prefer you didn't shoot someone down when they tell you an interest. So thanks." Mello. Mello. Mello. I say it a couple times in my head until it drills in. Mari said it before, but still. That someone would call themselves that and get away with it. It kinda works for him, really. Wait. What. Stop it, brain. Gabriel the Pastor raises an eyebrow, but doesn't question.

"Anything about yourself you wanna say?" Mello's eyes dart around to the rest of the room before they catch me staring at him. His hand raises to touch the bottom of his necklace. He doesn't blink, just holds my gaze for a minute before speaking, still not looking away.

"What's there to say? I'm not that interesting." His voice suddenly changes into a different tone that makes me have to look away first. Not that interesting? I don't buy it.

"What about you?" Gabriel the Pastor is apparently talking to me now. Great.

"Hmm? Oh, I'm Matt. That's really it." Why the hell did I stutter with that? Because I can still feel Mello's blue eyes locked on me. Why is that even a problem?  
The line of names continues to grow until it suddenly stops. Gabriel the Pastor is talking the entire time, and I can even hear other voices. Time doesn't seem to be moving. Those blue eyes, on the other hand, keep darting over to me every now and then.

I could get used to this. Wait wait wait, no, no I will not.


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note:  
So I have no internet. Or had. By the time this is up on the site, I will most likely have internet again. But yeah. First off, thank you to everyone actually reading this, you guys deserve a hug. Who wants a hug? No one? Oh….okay…..  
*weak laugh* Please always remember to leave a review with any and all feedback, I'd love to hear it! :D :D  
*dramatic pose*  
~Echo

* * *

Sunday night is wasted thinking about who drugged me and with what and when and how. Because there is no way in all of earth and non-existent heaven that I could ever be attracted to a guy. Let alone, this particular guy, who sits like he runs the world and acts like it, too. I must be high. Or stoned. Or something. Or drunk again. Or something. Or something seems about right. There's got to be some reason.

My room is torture, sitting alone, staring at the ceiling at four in the morning. So, I guess Monday will be wasted thinking about him, too, huh? I should think about something else. Anything else. Come on, something, please. Nope. I still can't shake that impression of his eyes. Bright blue, not just any old color, because that is some fucking gorgeous sapphire he has for eyes. And I, I am jealous. No one likes dull, dark eyes. They like bright colors. And so do I. A lot.

Only six more days until I have to go back there. God, I'm already counting down. And for what? Not like I'd ever do anything other than sit in the back and pray they don't catch me attempting to sleep. Huh. I'd be praying for something. Interesting. All they do is talk about scripture so far, which is literally the dumbest shit ever. None of it makes sense, or made sense, or whatever. Only six more days.

The sun's going to come up soon. There's something else to think about. The sun. And the fact that I haven't slept at all since I got home, because all that's been running through my head is his stupid, stupid name. Not that I have anything against his name, I actually think it's pretty unique. Both his real name and his completely irrelevant nickname. And then there's that rosary he wears. Red. What the hell is the red for? Is he worried about possession or something else? He did catch me staring at him a couple times. Maybe he's worried about me. Him. And me. No. No, that's not possible, because I should not be thinking about other guys like this. Nope, nope, nope-ity nope.

At some time in between five and six, someone knocks on my door. I refuse to get up, of course. Just keep staring at the ceiling in complete and utter silence. Yeah, this is better. But they come in anyways, so I have to look. Scarlet…my youngest sister, but yet she's older than me. Being the youngest has absolutely no perks. Unless you're me, I guess. Her hair is styled kinda like mine, only with longer bangs. Everyone in this family is blonde except me. Not the type of blonde Mello is, it's a deeper shade with brown. Why am I still thinking about him?

And she looks pissed, but whatever the reason, she holds up the cigarette in her hand to meet her lips like she always does inside. She'd never light it inside of the house, but that doesn't stop her.

"So, you are alive after all, little brother." She smirks before whipping out the pack if smokes she has. It's been forever since she even offered me one, forever ago since I'd been addicted like her. Now seems like the best time to start again. "Want one?" She doesn't even have to ask.

We sit out on the back porch for two hours, and she keeps huffing in nicotine every second of it while I struggle not to keep taking more. The smoke is pretty damn relaxing, actually. Kinda makes me feel like a dragon. Like I'm more powerful. Huh. Weird.

"So. How was church?" She could have asked that last night like a more considerate person. Nah, she was most likely asleep again when I got back. I didn't check, I just locked myself and tried to get rid of all these thoughts. About…..him…

"It was…..so…fucking….boring." I take another huff of smoke in and then breathe it out. Scarlet raises her eyebrow before tapping her own cigarette to get rid of the ash.

"I figured as much. Wanna tell me why you didn't sleep and stayed up blasting random Avril Lavigne songs again?" Oh. So she heard that.

"No reason." I get the feeling she doesn't believe me. I wouldn't believe me either.

"Last time you did that, you'd just got dumped." She purposely blows a breath of smoke in my face and I bat it away like some kind of spazz. This earn me a snicker.

"Yeah, well, nobody dumped me." I snap. I hear the door open behind us, followed by footsteps.

"You guys are so predictable. Pass me one of those." My mother's voice sounds from behind. Great. I really needed two pep talks today. But she doesn't do anything until Scarlet tosses her the near-empty pack. Everyone in this family has serious issues. I stand up and stomp out my cigarette and head back inside.

The second the smoke clears out of my lungs, my mind picks right up where it left off. With those stupidly beautiful blue eyes of his. Dammit. Nothing's going to get rid of this disgusting thought, is it? Do I have to deal with this, or just do nothing?

My dad's sitting at the kitchen table when I come back from the porch. He shoots me an irritated, red-eyed stare. Immediately, I look down and move away into the other room before he can talk to me. Not dealing with that guy today. I can hear him yelling at me again. Do I give any shits? Nope, no I don't. The yelling fest has only just begun.

Back to square one, locked in my room, earbuds in, phone off, trying to drown out the images of the guy named Mello, his voice, and his eyes. There's nothing quite loud enough. Yeah, I'm definitely going to hell for this one. I waste the rest of my Monday convincing myself that someone is trying to brainwash me.

Tuesday is not much better. The only real difference is that it rains and my stash of food runs dry. Pokemon Yellow gets beaten, and Gameboy sold to finally upgrade. Still, no matter what I do, it feels forced. Forced to laugh, forced to smile, when all I really want to do is think about him, especially when I'm by myself. What the fuck is happening to me? I'm going completely insane over someone I don't know. Wait, why would I be going insane over anyone? I'm not. I'm just flat out going insane. Yeah.

Somehow, being crazy would be a huge comfort. It would.


	6. Chapter 6

Author's Note:  
It took me a whole crate of Coca-Cola to get up and write today. Not that I didn't want to….just kinda depressed lately, what with my school is starting back up again…moving on, I want to get right in to the romantic type stuff in this story, so yeah. It helps to write adorable shit when you want to slap someone senseless. Helps calm the nerves. *deep breath*  
Sorry for being so serious today. It's just really late on a school night when I wrote this, so I'm kinda in that zone where I do not give any fucks as to my personal problems, I just gotta write shit today.  
Please remember to leave a review with any and all feedback, it'd mean a lot to hear it :) :)  
*weak dramatic pose because I'm in no mood to strike a real one*  
~Echo

* * *

To be completely and utterly calm for just one minute is essentially torture. But frankly, that's exactly what it takes for me to sit my ass down in car for an hour to ride with my mom into uptown. Not like I have any business there, but Scarlet's headed out today because Wednesday is the only day she actually is productive. She's a designer or something and I guess she's got a presentation today.  
Plus I'm not sure my mom trusts me around flammable objects or alcohol at this point in time. And there is no way in all of heaven and hell that I will stay home alone with my dad. Don't need that asshole.

So going uptown is obviously the next best bet at this point. Considering I've basically screwed myself over here. Hey, it's not entirely my fault that this happened. Okay, it kind of is, but that's no reason to drag me off somewhere where I don't need to go. Except…..there's an outlet mall thing near downtown. As far as I know, they have GameStop's at that type of place. Better than sitting completely still for hours on end. Whatever, I still have to make awkward car riding conversation. Just gotta wait for her to say something….

"Matt." There we go.

"Yea?" I ask, folding my arm. We're at a stoplight in the middle of a crowded intersection. Great. My mom is glaring at me, it's those stupid evil eyes again. I don't even have to look and I know.

"Do you even want to attempt a normal conversation?" I hear her rummaging around looking for something. Then she rolls down the window and produces half a box of cigarettes from the glove box. Okay. So that's where those went. Good to know.

"Nope." She starts searching around for a lighter, but the light turns green. My mom makes a sharp left turn, which leaves me holding on for dear life. Seatbelts are essential when riding in a car with this woman.

"So. Any extra thoughts on your group thing? You haven't complained at all, I'm a little worried, to be honest." Makes enough sense, I guess. Enough for me to answer.

"Wait, so you're worried when I don't complain about things that are total shit?" This earns me a snort as the car makes another swerve and I grip the armrest even tighter to avoid flying to one side again. Seatbelts do little anymore.

"Yes, actually, you always have something to bitch about." Well, she's not wrong. Another stoplight. There is time to rest before I must face death through my mother's driving again.

"Okay, maybe I do, but that's irrelevant. If you want me to bitch about stuff, just say so. I'll make you a list. We can put it on the fridge. That way you can know what pisses me off every day." She nods really slowly like she doesn't quite follow, but breaks and ends up laughing. I roll my eyes. Green light.

"Go ahead and rant about your horrific week, I'll listen." I can't tell if she's being serious or not. And that's an issue. A big issue. I fold my arms and glare out the window at a few people on the sidewalk. There's a bus stop. I bet I could ride a bus away, but then again I'd end up getting lost in a couple hours and then I'd really be fucked.

"Can I just go to jail and not church? I don't want to be there….around…people…" Adding in a shudder for effect, I do my best to convince my mom, but it does work. She just glares again.

"Well, lucky for you, you aren't a people so suck it up and observe other cultures, you might learn a thing or two about yourself, too." This sentence comes with a smile that reads; 'I'm lying, but believe me anyways.' Will do. Will do. Although…..there is that outlet nearby, maybe if I just agree I can head over there instead of tagging along with Mom all day. Huh. Now that's a decent thought….

"As long as you don't do anything stupid, you can go wherever it is you're planning." She says, voice half full of laughter. Goddamn, she's good. Maybe it's my face. Maybe my face is a dead giveaway. That could be something to work on in the future, facial expressions. Which are very important for acting like you give a fuck in social situations, but that's irrelevant.

"Great, now, I want to go to GameStop by myself." I shoot my words back at her and she groans and hits herself on the forehead.

"I should have known. Alright, I'll drop you off there, you do whatever the hell you want and take the bus up to Scarlet's work and meet me there, got it?" My mom is doing her best to keep her eyes on the road, but it looks like she's trying not to slap me. To GameStop for overpriced merchandise that I probably don't need. Nah. I need it.

* * *

The bus ride all the way across the godforsaken city is just as bad as the car ride up. Okay, GameStop was a complete and total bust, but then again it always is. It's just so fucking stupid. They can't even have the one game I really wanted when I upgraded my systems. Pokemon would have been cool and all since I haven't tried out the new generation because fuck it, I'm lazy.  
This is all total shit. There was only one open seat on this fucking thing, in the very back. Sitting in the front is much better. This is why I don't ride in limos, I can't stand sitting in the back by myself, which at this point, I am. Two seats in the back, basically just one bus bench or whatever they're called.

So I get to sit in this seat next to the window for a good hour or so just to get up to wherever the hell Scarlet is so I can ride another hour in an awkward silence with my mom. Lucky me. Although, it's still more exciting than the past couple of days have been.

The bus stops again, a couple of people get off and even more get on. Great. More people. I'm going to end up forced to sit next to a random stranger. Of course, the second I think this, I jinx it. Someone sits down next to me, forcing me to sit up straight and look away.

"It okay if I sit here?" Fuck….I know that voice. I glance over just barely and get enough of a look to make my entire brain go numb. Just when I had finally stopped thinking about this asshole he shows up. What the hell is he even doing here? Blonde, burn scar. Fuck. I know him….Mello…I think. His blue eyes blink expectantly. Today, though, there is a lack of black from his clothes, instead its navy blue. I think black looks much better on him. Wait what. No. No. There's a red rosary around his neck. Yeah…it's him again.

"Uh…..yeah…." Shit shit shit shit shit shit. He shrugs and folds his hands in his lap. I simply do my best to avoid all eye contact, but he keeps looking at me and squinting.

"Have I….seen you before?" He doesn't recognize me…. Thank all the heavens everywhere.

"Probably not." I stutter without a second thought. This doesn't seem to sit right with him, but he nods and continues to glance at me every few seconds.

"I swear, I've seen you somewhere before." Avoid eye contact. Avoid eye contact. I repeat this over and over in my head until that's the only thing in my head. Nope. No more bad thoughts. Just avoid eye contact and everything will be fine.

"I think you have me confused with someone else." It takes a minute to force out the words, what with my trying not to look at him and him still looking at me. As if this couldn't get any more awkward. He gives up.

"You're most likely right. A lot of people look the same." He mutters. It's definitely him. That's his voice. Wait, why the hell do I remember it that well? Because I'm insane. Yep. That's the logical answer.

"Well, at least they look a little different." A nod from him is the best response I get before he attempts to awkwardly change the subject.

"So….where are you headed?" Typical passerby conversation. It's at least refreshing to think he hasn't figured out that he's seen me before. That voice, though. Shut up, brain, shut up shut up shut up.

"Oh….uh...just meeting some people…a friend of mine had a presentation or some shit today, and I'm going to see how it went." And now we cross over into a whole new dimension of awkward and weird. Like it wasn't enough before.

"That's interesting, I guess." He looks like he isn't quite sure what to say. Confused. It's kind of an adorable expression. What?! No, no it's not. Okay maybe it is, it's not like he can read minds.

"Umm…what about you?" I offer my own question, but it's completely clear that this couldn't get any more uncomfortable.

"Looking for something. Didn't find it." His eyes dart away, his hand moves up to grip the cross on his necklace. Is that like…a normal thing? Or….what….

"Oh. So, where exactly…" I get cut off by the bus nearly flying to a stop. Before I can even start my sentence again, he's standing up looking over the top of the seats. Another stop. Great. Wait.

"I need to get off here." It's almost as if he says it to himself, but he glances back down at me one more time and squints again. "I swear, I've seen you before. I just can't place your face. Although, I doubt I'd forget it." And then both him a decent amount of people are off the bus. Why am I flustered? Why is my skin burning?

Something is seriously wrong with me. Something serious. I'm sick. I've been infected with a super virus. That's why my heart won't slow the fuck down. That's why this entire ride alone is torture. That's why. I'm sick. That has to be it.

* * *

Scarlet's presentation did okay, which is good, meaning she didn't totally butcher it. She spends the entire car ride home, after she stole my seat in the front, complaining about things she could have done better. I don't really care. I'm too busy staring out the window.

Am I too plain for him to remember? Or is it that he never got a good look at me? His name's Mello. I remember that much. It's such an easy and incredible name. Yeah, something is definitely wrong with me.

"Ey, Matt." Scarlet's voice snaps at me from the front seat. It takes me a second to break out of thought and answer.

"What?" She scoffs and starts leaning her seat back in an attempt to crush my legs. This, of course, fails.

"Do anything interesting while I was participating in society?" Her voice suddenly ups a few octaves before she busts out laughing at herself. I have to wait until she calms down.

"Well…..I think I made a new friend…" This catches both Scarlet and my mom's attention. The brakes suddenly slam and I have to stop myself from flinging forwards again. Scarlet looks over the top of her seat and wiggles her eyebrows like she knows something again.

"Oh, a friend you say?" I know what she's thinking, but I brush it off.

"Yeah. I can have friends, too, you know?" In response from my mom, I get a snort. Scarlet, on the other hand, laughs a little bit before shaking her head.

"Most are friends with benefits." And I was right. Wait a sec…

"Okay, maybe a few are….wait…how do you even know about that?!" Both of them start laughing hysterically until Scarlet's fanning her face and my mom stops at a red light and hits her head on the top of the steering wheel a couple of times.

"Matt, if you ever live with someone even remotely similar to you, you'd know. Plus my room is next to yours." Well. That information could have been useful a while ago, when both the other people I am forced to share both a house and a car with weren't laughing at me like a bunch of hyenas on crack.

Of all the days. Of all the days when things could have happened, why today?


	7. Chapter 7

Author's Note:  
So I have writer's block. What a fantastic way to begin the school year.  
Moving on...THANK YOU TO EVERYONE FOR THE REVIEWS AND SUPPORT YOU GUYS DESERVE HUGS!  
Everyone gets hugs from happy Echo :D  
Please remember to leave a review with any and all feedback, it'd mean a lot to hear it :D :D :D  
*dramatic pose*  
~Echo

* * *

Fate is the literal most twisted shit ever. Think about it. Some magic man or something like that is predicting MY choices. That's what my brain is for. I'm in charge. You know, except for the rare occasion in which I have to do what my parent's tell me.

It's four in the morning and I'm obsessively playing Mario Kart on my DS. This was supposed to be an upgrade from a Gameboy, but seeing as how I still don't have anything other than this specific game to play, I'm not feeling it.  
Twelve straight races as Yoshi. Twelve straight wins in a row on Mirror Cup. Whoop-dee-fucking-doo. Okay, so yeah, that's a decent streak for me considering the last time I played this game I was like ten. That's a lie. I was thirteen. And it wasn't even my game, I just got a hold of it and beat all the records before my dad got pissy and took it away. Family is truly great, isn't it?

I was supposed to go to sleep at eight. That's what I was told at least. But somehow everyone in my house seems to forget that I don't need sleep. Then again, Dad's yelling at me to sleep but then is out by six, Mom works until eleven and Scarlet gives zero shits if I sleep or not. Family. How great can it possibly get? I really shouldn't be complaining. Most normal people don't get to stay up until four playing random games. Most normal people don't stay up until four anyways.

Refusal to sleep is supposed to be a symptom of depression. It's also supposed to be a symptom of having a crush. Well. Fuck you, too, , I'm not depressed. Or am I. Maybe there's some weird repressed feeling that I'm not aware of and it only comes out when I sleep or dream when I can't remember and it's feasting on my happiness.  
Holy shit I must be high. Maybe I should get something to eat. Or invest in some Cheetos. Yeah, I'm definitely high on something.

So, it's four in the morning. Who can I bother at four in the morning? Scarlet's probably gonna get pissed if I go wake her up. But I've been sitting in this chair for like nine hours, I should probably move. Or at least go get my phone. It's so far away, though. So far. Like…..at least four feet. Eh.

I lean forwards and snatch the thing off the ground, now paying no attention to the ending sequence of Mario Kart. Not that anyone gives a fuck about the credits. Well. Except the end of Pokemon, everyone loves inspirational quotes.

Who can I call, wake up, and piss off today? I flip my DS shut and don't even bother setting it down, it just falls to the floor. Oh well. I should bother Mari. I do need some info on certain subjects. Plus if all fails, I could just say I'm drunk. She'd buy that. I'd buy that. Especially if "that" is a bottle of Jack Daniels. But that's another subject entirely. So, like the idiot I am, I hit call. It only takes two rings before she answers.

"Why are you calling me at four in the morning?" Yeah, this was definitely a bad idea. At least she doesn't sound pissed, she just sounds kinda tired.

"Why are you answering me at four in the morning?" There's a growl that I can hear from the other end, followed by some sound that kind of like typing.

"That's a good question. You know what else is a good question? What the hell do you want?!" And now she's screeching. Yep. This was a terrible idea.

"Uh…well….you know that guy?" Yes, Matt. Attempt to change the subject and fail.

"No, no I don't. You could be more specific, you know. You don't always have to act like a child." More typing sounds. She's probably Googling something again.

"Mari, you're the best totally not a stalker type person I know. I need information. About someone I might end up killing." My brain is definitely not working, I'm not even sure what I'm talking about. There is absolutely no doubt that I'm high off something. Maybe I'm high on life.

"I'd prefer intensive researcher, and who am I researching?" This takes a second to consider.

"That one guy. Uh…shit…" She, of course, just snickers and starts typing her again. Am I on speaker? Probably.

"Wow, it really wouldn't kill you to be more specific. You just don't want to tell me you know his name. You're so transparent. You want to kill the guy who's hotter than you. Just give me a name." More typing, some page flipping on her end. Then there's me, now staring at the ceiling with a phone up to my ear at four in the morning on a Friday.

"Umm…..the guy with the burn mark from church." I don't hear a sound for a second and then there's a weird noise that sounds like someone is desperately trying to grab her phone.

"What why he's so cute why would you ever think about hurting him you bastard he's so nice!" And now she's yelling. Lovely.

"Just give me the fucking information, woman. And why do you care?" There's a silence before a sound of more typing. What the hell is she doing?

"Because he's cute. And a lot of girls hit on him. Plus…..he's hot, okay?!" Good job, Mari. Those are great reasons. But, the again, I'm the one asking her to randomly research people.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, he's hot, whatever, just tell me what you know, dammit." I switch hands since the other one was starting to fall asleep.

"Fiiiiiiine. Google says: His name is Mihael Keehl, he's the son of a nun…..Wait how does that work? Maybe she became a nun after he was born….what….I thought nuns swore off being with men. Maybe she was a rape victim, there's nothing here about a dad. Wait, do nuns swear off being with men?" How the fuck am I supposed to respond to that?

"….uh…..just keep reading…" I rub the sleep out of my eyes. How long have I been awake?

"Yeah, sure, umm….something about house fire….hmm…..okay…..thank you, Google for that image I did not need to see." …what image, I wonder. But she announces the rest of her findings. "Okay, so a couple years ago people set a house on fire and that's where the burn came from, his mom was a rape victim, that's always good to know, and some people think he's the spawn of Satan and blah blah blah religious bullshit. He's still pretty hot for the son of Satan." She better be being sarcastic. It sounds like sarcasm to me.

"Oh…uh…thanks…Mari….I'm….gonna hang up now…" I hear a growl and then some tapping again. She's still typing.

"Umm…total freaking shot in the dark here, but is there any chance you're going to tell my why you want to kill him? Or something?" I yawn before muttering a no and hanging up on her before she can respond.

That was kind of a douche move there, but I feel like collapsing and frankly I can't answer her. There's no way I'd even consider killing someone. I just want to know. Something. I don't know what, but something. Yeah. I'm definitely high on something. Maybe the internet was right. Maybe I am depressed. Or have a crush. Yeah, I'm probably depressed if anything at all. That's one logical explanation. Fuck.

I do not have a crush. There is no one I am thinking about. I am not going to go through that shit again. Nope. Nope. Nope. Absolutely not, I refuse.  
Although….it wouldn't kill me to attempt something.  
Yes, it would. I would die. I have no idea how, but I would.

I sleep through most of Saturday, only getting up to shower and grab something to eat before collapsing again. I am going insane. There is something wrong with me.  
Get the hell out of my head.


	8. Chapter 8

Author's Note:

Hello there my beautiful readers who all deserve a happy lovey dovey story that I cannot provide. I am currently not mentally stable since my SPD (schizoid personality disorder) is acting up lately and I have absolutely no right to force this upon you but this is happening to me both as a person and as a writer and I want everyone to be aware that this will be affecting my writing skills and so much of this already reflects me and my emotions. I just need anyone who reads this to understand that I am not okay. But soon I might be and I might look back at this and hit myself for being such a bitch and feeling the need to tell you guys.  
I am not okay.  
And neither is anyone else.  
This chapter is a more in depth look at Matt's home life, since in this kind of thing I think it's important to include all details that made the character the way they are in this situation.  
So please remember to leave a review with any and all feedback! :D It would really mean a lot.  
*somehow less dramatic than usual pose*  
~Echo

* * *

Sunday begins early at two in the morning with a shouting fest between the two most annoying people on the planet. Scarlet. And my father. Okay, he's more like whoever banged my mom to get me to exist, not even my dad or my father or whatever. I'm here. He's here. The world is not a better place because of it.

In all reality, I couldn't possibly care less about whatever they're yelling about this time, but I hear my name and immediately wake up. Huh. I guess that's a reflex from school and stuff last year. Still. It's not very refreshing to know your family talks about you behind your back. Then again, I'm the only interesting one around here. Scarlet's got whatever the hell she does for work, Dad's a deadbeat with no job, and Mom just does whatever. Then there's me. The only one in this family with a legitimate social life and even that is failing miserably.

Okay, after listening to this for about ten minutes I can see where this is going. Scarlet says I'm completely fine. Dad says I'm a bastard who needs to learn my lesson. Scarlet complains that not everything has to do with the only male child in the family. Dad says there's a reason that I was born, and that's because I was gonna be a guy. Then Scarlet's gonna get pissy, start screeching that there was a reason everyone else left, she's gonna get slapped or Mom's gonna wake up, and I'm gonna roll over and go back to sleep like nothing happened.

The sad thing is, this kind of thing has been going on since I can remember. Which isn't that long, since I don't remember anything before age eight when my older sister introduced me to the world of beer pong and that was the end of my childhood. I mean, it was worse for my siblings.

Eva's the oldest out of all seven of us Jeevas kids. Ten years above me anyways. She also ran away when she was little, so I didn't meet her until she was eighteen. She was my dad's first disappointment, although she's got a kickass job as an FBI agent and has been an amazing beer pong sensei to her little brother.

Then there's Rosylynn and Cara. The twins. Standing at about five feet tall and seven years older than me, they are the third and fourth most annoying people on the planet known as Earth. Rosylynn's some kind of chef or something and we haven't heard from Cara in a while. They both hit the road the second they were 18. Can't blame them, really. They were the second disappointment.

Then there's Maggie. Four years older than me. No one's said anything about her in a long time, except me. Feels like I'm the only one who remembers her. But she's kind of a freaky gothic girl who moved out at 16. Not that that's bad, I mean, Mags rocked it. She was an epic sister who loved video games as much as me and even taught me how to play. The Gameboy I had used to belong to her. The blue one. She was also the third disappointment.

And last but not least of my sisters, there's Scarlet who is two years older than me and can't handle a drink. She's amounted to absolutely nothing and I'm probably going to end up like her considering I'm getting there already. Still living with Mom and Dad, trying to get into a fashion design career. She could totally do it, but she's a huge ass who talked me into smoking and buys me random video games so I won't say anything about it. Scarlet was the fourth disappointment.

Of course, there's also me. The only boy. Raised in a house where all the other siblings took off the second they legally could, or in Maggie's case, the second they felt like it. I blame Dad. He's judgmental and idiotic and glares a lot, he's super religious and I know literally nothing about him other than that. I'm pretty sure the only reason Mom married him was because she was pregnant with Eva. Poor Eva. Poor Eva? Poor me and Scarlet, we're still stuck with this shit because we weren't sure what to do with our lives.

It's way too early for this. Dad's going to probably head to the first church service or whatever bullshit he does eventually. Until then, shouting match it is. More stuff about how our dad's an asshole, more stuff about how Scarlet is a failure. Only a matter of time before Mom wakes up. She's just walk into the room and they'll both magically turn into mature adults.  
I heard the door slam and I pull the navy blue covers of the bed over my head. There's a sound of feet pounding on the floor, then someone's shouting something about the other not having any control over them. Goddammit Scarlet, you lost just shut the fuck up. I must resist the urge to scream this. She's had enough, therefore I can't butt in.

The worst thing about this morning is, I know that it's Sunday. And there's this weird sense of joy I feel, even though I'm tired as fuck and am wondering if my sisters are ever coming back. Seriously, what the hell is this about? It's Sunday. I'm supposed to be annoyed about getting sent back to that hellhole of a church. Instead, I'm kinda happy.  
There's a flash of those blue eyes in my mind again as my eye lids get a little heavier. Mom's awake now. She seems kinda pissed as far as I can hear. But I'm not worried about that.  
Am I….happy…because I want to see him again? Mello…that's his name…..am I still seriously thinking about him? Shit, I am. Fuck fuck fuck fuck dammit fucking shit I am not doing this again it's way too early to think about him. Him and his stupid fucking perfect hair and eyes and….whatever I'm still really tired, that must be why. I'm not actually happy because I want to see him. But…..what if….what if I am…  
No.  
Maybe?  
Nope….


	9. Chapter 9

Author's Note:  
So after having a shit-tastic day at school and a wonderful discussion with my incredible therapist, I am overjoyed to come home to a couple reviews and such, as well as awkwardly have both my 'editors' for this online to help. There are no words I could ever possibly use to describe how happy I am looking at all these reviews. Literally almost in tears typing this and I'm not sure if they're happy tears or not.  
Moving along! I'm super psyched for everything coming up with this story, since it's starting to slowly eat my brain alive. I'm being consumed by a fanfic…..heh….totally okay with that XD  
Please remember to leave a review with any and all feedback, I'd love to hear it! :D :D  
You are all angels! (Or demons like me, which ever you prefer)  
*dramatic pose*  
~Echo

* * *

My entire fucking life is about to come to an end. Scarlet is in charge of driving me to group today. Scarlet is in charge of me. Scarlet, the girl who barely got past her goddamn driving test with a passing grade, is in charge of driving me.

On the bright side, I'm allowed to smoke in the car. Considering that's pretty much all my older sister does anyways. Smoke cigarettes like a monster. She could blow through several packs of the shit a day, both literally and metaphorically. Although, I cannot find the fucking lighter. She always keeps one in the glove compartment of every car she drives, even Dad's car.

The front seat is a danger zone. Full of old crap that Scarlet's too lazy to get rid of. This car's probably older than both of us combined, given how shitty the interior is. Seriously. Would it kill her to get an air freshener in here? Mom's car is clean. Dad's car is…well, I've never actually ridden in it before so I don't have a clue. Scarlet's car is a pile of trash and I mean that literally.

"Scar, where is the damn lighter?" I'm checking under the seat for it now. My first mistake. This drive will be the death of me. She slams on the brakes and I thank God that I'm not wearing a seatbelt for once since I probably would have been choked. Although the dashboard does get to meet my head. Not a plus at all.

"In my pocket, why?" I climb back into my seat and buckle in. Not making that mistake ever again. Yeah, no, that's a lie. We're at a stop light at who knows where because neither of us have any sense of direction what so ever.

"I want a cigarette, I thought that was obvious." She snorts and presses the gas pedal again. We're going to get arrested. She's going to get arrested. Why the hell is nobody doing anything? My fingernails scrape the armrest of my seat, still trying to keep myself from falling down again.

"Ah. Well, I was too busy focusing on the fact that we're completely lost again, but yeah, smoking in the car. Nice call, little bro." There's a straightaway for a while now, no turns no cars, just road that looks like it could go on for a while. We are so lost. We? No. scarlet's lost, I'm just along for the ride. I'm going to end up being late. Not that I care. Okay, maybe I care a little.

"Just gimme the lighter already." I snarl and she lets go of the wheel for a second to hit me over the head with one hand. The car takes a swerve and I yell at her to get her shit together. To which, she replies oh so graciously with an eye roll and sticking out her tongue. It takes her a second to figure out she could be using just one hand to drive. Genius. However, that doesn't improve her skills at all.

Every woman in this family is a terrible driver. I mean, everyone has a poor sense of direction here anyways, not just me and Scarlet. By these standards, I could be an okay driver. If I had a car or a license. Never bothered to get one. Hey, it makes life a whole lot easier when you hijack a car and don't have to worry about getting any points on a license. Even if I don't have one, they'd probably still charge me. They can't wait to press charges. I can see them, waiting. Waiting for me to screw up.

There's another swerve which introduces the right side of my face to the window. I'm so done with this.

"If you aren't going to give me the lighter, at least drive like you aren't a complete lunatic!" I yell before repositioning myself in this stupid seat. I'm going to end up dead. And it's all her fault this time. Not my fault. Her fault. Hey, it's not my fault for once.

"Shut up, we're almost there. Jesus, you're annoying." And this is coming from the one who smokes all the time and never shuts up. I hold my hands up in mock defeat. Her car. Not mine. Still not my fault. Who am I to question the driver that is trying to kill me? Insane. Yeah. Definitely insane, but that's irrelevant.

At this point, being dead would be better than being late. Considering if I was dead I wouldn't have to put up with this anymore. And if I was late to group, then I'd still have to wait for Scarlet to come pick me up afterwards like the responsible adult that she is not. My options are very limited.


	10. Chapter 10

Author's Note:  
Hello there, all my precious readers! I am so extraordinarily happy at the moment and I can't explain why, but I am!  
I don't even understand why I'm in such a good mood! I think I'm going insane….but that's irrelevant.  
Now.  
LET ME FIRST TELL YOU THAT YOU ALL DESERVE MULTIPLE HUGS AND COOKIES FOR LEAVING REVIEWS SO EVERYONE GETS A HUG AND YOU MUST DEAL WITH IT!  
*coughs*  
So I'm back in school now (Lovely, I know) and am currently taking Art, English Honors, Science and Computer Apps so if I don't post as often I'm either drawing intensively or playing catch-up in the computer labs. I fucking hate high school so much. English is cool though….yeah…  
Moving on.  
Please remember to leave a review with any and all feedback! It really means a lot! :D :D  
*hugs readers instead of posing*  
~Echo

* * *

I'm dead, I'm dead, I'm dead, I'm dead, I'm dead, I'm dead and in hell and this has to be my punishment. On the upside, I'm not late and Gabriel the Pastor is sick today so that means we get to learn from the woman who wears way too much lipstick but somehow rocks it. She didn't have anything planned so she reads some scripture for about thirty minutes before telling us that we can all just chill for a while. There's another hour and a half left. On the downside, Mari's talking to Mello.  
I'm not jealous. Just all she does when she meets people is blab about what a dick I supposedly am. Okay, I'm a bit of a dick to certain people but that's not really important at the moment. They sit away from the group, Mari with her feet up on the pew in front of them, him looking like he's not entirely listening. I'm not jealous.

She's smiling a lot. Mari tucks a piece of hair that sticks out all the time behind her ear. Ah shit. She's flirting now. Now we know. She's done that over a thousand times around me, enough for me to get the hint of what that motion means. God fucking dammit, Marielle. Go get your own crush.  
Wait no.  
I don't have a crush. Fuck it, I'll just ignore them.

Unfortunately, I'm sitting across the room by myself while everyone else sits in clumps and talks. Not that I want to talk to anyone. I'd rather stare at the ceiling. Unfortunately, I have a perfect view of Marielle and her freaking gorgeous smile that won me over last time. Although, the boy with the scar doesn't seem at all affected by her.

Mari's not just a friend, she used to be a little more than that. Despite popular opinion, I never slept with her. She's always been a good person. Kinda like that one girl that looks super pretty in her own way and gives off that vibe that makes you wonder if she'd kill you. She always wore gray pull over hoodies that were way too big and different color leggings to match it. Now, though. Now that she doesn't have to look normal for school, she dresses all in blue and gray and wears Triforce earrings that dangle.  
No straight guy would be able to overlook her. Yeah, she's plain. But she's also…..well…..Marielle. Plus she's got a pretty smile.

I don't get why he doesn't act the way normal guys would around her. They'd buy into her flirting and talk a little more. I keep watching them talk, some type of rage kind of floating around in my head. He does more listening than he does talking. That's a decent trait, but I find it kind of odd. Maybe he just doesn't want to talk to her. His hand moves to grab his necklace again.

Is there something I'm missing? Some unspoken religious sign that means 'back the fuck off' or something? I do not understand that fucking rosary and now it's getting annoying. What's even more annoying is that I have to put up with Mari's adorable bullshit while she's talking to him.

He's not wearing dark gray like last time. Nope. Leather jacket and black shirt with dark blue jeans. Maybe he just got bored. Personally, I'd love to be able to pull that style off the way he does. Wait what. No. No one's pulling anything off. Except me. I happen to be able to rock stripes and goggles. That's my thing.

And I'm staring again, I just realized. Staring is not polite, so I've been told. Unless the subject at which you happen to be staring at is super-hot, so I'm kinda on the verge here to say that I'm impolite. He turns his head at an angle so that he can look over at me and I duck my head down so neither of them can see that I was looking at all. I'll ask Mari what all they were talking about later. Maybe. If I feel like it. I probably will.

* * *

When everyone leaves, I don't think it's a very good idea to stay behind. The other two preachers or pastors or whatever the hell they call themselves head out and tell me to wait outside. Goddammit Scarlet, why can't you ever be on time for anything?

Mello, on the other hand, seems perfectly content waiting behind. He doesn't act like he has anywhere to be or anywhere to go. He stands out on the steps like he's been doing this his entire life. I bet he has been. Man. He does look pretty good…  
Wait what no absolutely not. Bad brain. Shut up.

He kind of avoids me and stands on the top of the stairs while I sit a little further down. Not that I can blame him. I've been kind of creepily staring at him for the past hour or so. For no reason. There might be reason. For no good reason. Nah, it's a good reason. I'm pretty sure it is, at least.

"So what were you and Mari talking about?" I manage to speak, finally. He acts like he forgot I was there before reaching into the pocket of his jacket and fishing out something wrapped up in foil. Is that…he had chocolate the entire time holy shit.

"She was talking. I wasn't really. Although, she did mention you a couple of times. Called you a bunch of stuff." The only thing I'm really focused on is the fact that he had half a bar of chocolate, or maybe even a whole bar, and no one noticed. How did no one notice? Unless it's normal, then it would be okay. He unwraps it and takes a chip off the corner.

"Ah. Well. That's always good to know." And now we return to awkward silence. He keep continuously glancing over at me and I kinda would know since I'm still trying not to get caught staring at him again.

"I knew I knew you from somewhere." Holy fuck. He actually did recognize me. Shit…..well…. I don't offer much of a response. Not that I get the chance to anyways.

Scarlet's car makes its way into the parking lot and I stand up. Mello doesn't even budge, just keeps chipping away at that chocolate bar. I hope that's normal. It would be a bit of a turn off if he did this for no reason.  
Wait no no one is turned on in the first place. No. Okay maybe a little.

The ride home is unusually safe and less winding than usual. Scarlet offers me a cigarette and seems terrified when I won't take one. The second I get home, I'm out of the car and in my room, essentially face-planted into my bed waiting to fucking die.

Guys aren't supposed to be attracted to other guys. Especially me. Wait. I'm not supposed to be attracted to guys. And I'm not.  
Just him.  
Does that count for anything? I don't think so.

Why the hell do I like him anyways? His eyes. I bet it's his eyes. They're kinda like electricity and you have no idea what's happening until it's too late. I bet that's why Mari likes him too. Do I have competition? No. No I don't. Because I'm not fighting anyone over anything.

I'm not attracted to guys. It doesn't work like that.


	11. Chapter 11

Author's Note:  
Guess who already has a horrible habit of falling asleep in the Computer Lab? SPOILER ALERT!  
It's me.  
Yeah, so I fall asleep in class and dream up random shit and now I come and write it all out for you guys. I feel like everyone deserves to have one hell of a day today, be it good or bad, you guys deserve a good one. So I'll do my best to cheer you up if you need and make you even happier if I can!  
That's my job. AND NO ONE CAN TELL ME THAT IT ISNT!  
Also I've noticed I only use like five or six curse words and when I talk I only use like three so…..those are Echo's random speech patterns that are irrelevant to everything that's going on in this author's note.  
So, as always, please leave a review with your feedback, I'd love to hear it! :D :D  
*dramatic pose again*  
~Echo

* * *

Today feels like shit. Tomorrow will probably feel like shit. Mondays are supposed to be shitty. This is normal. Poor Tuesday though. Everyone hates Tuesday. It's not Tuesday's fault that it comes after Monday, seriously. It's our own fault for hating it. It's actually not that bad, since I have no plans. Tuesday isn't as bad as it used to be. Even though today is Monday, I almost wish it was yesterday again. So many do-overs I could definitely use.

Scarlet's been up all night on the phone with who knows who, mixing drinks in the sink again. She only takes half a sip before passing it off to me. As a result, I was drunk off my ass until a while ago and my head is fucking killing me. She's still at it and I don't have the will to move away from the kitchen table. It's not like she's bad at making drinks. Just….now is not the best time for me to start blacking out again.

"Maaatt. Come here. Eva wants to talk to ya." She turns around from the sink and points to the phone up by her ear. I put my head down on the table again. Eva. Older sister. Scarlet rolls her eyes and walks across the kitchen before forcing my head up and holding the phone to my ear.

"Yo, little brother?" Eva's voice sounds much high pitched over the phone. I almost flinch, but my reaction times already off so I don't really notice anyways.

"Stop calling this early." I grumble, taking the phone from Scarlet, who goes back to humming and searching the cabinets for more vodka and clean shot glasses.

"Matt, it's like two in the afternoon. On a Monday. Wait….how old are you again? Ten years….uh….eighteen….nope, you shouldn't have school, just ignore me." This statement is followed by a snicker and the sound of her sipping something. I swear to God, if she's drinking, too. This is the only other sister who gives a fuck about me and she's a drunk, too. Worse than Scarlet. Worse than Dad. Worse than me. Somehow better than Mom on Fridays, though. Everyone can beat that. Even Eva.

"What do you waaaaaaaaaaaant?" I drag out the word longer than I should have, fighting off a yawn.

"Just checking up on you, now that you're sober and all. You know, you say some weird shit when you're drunk." Oh God…Did Scar have her on speaker again? Lovely. Just fucking perfect.

"Like you don't." She laughs and I hear her take another drink of whatever she's got this time. Scarlet makes a cheer and skips over to me before presenting another random drink in a juice glass. This one's green. God fucking dammit, Scar, can't you see I'm trying to stay sober for more than ten minutes. She mouths something along the lines of 'Try it, I dare you.' Before marching back to her station at the sink. Sometimes it's difficult to remember who the oldest child really is in this family.

"Yeah, well, while we're on the subject, you can't be gay because you'd get cuter guys than me and if you don't remember saying that, well then I'm telling you that you can't and you won't be." My face flushes red. Lucky for me, the only person around to see it is too preoccupied trying to get drunk again. What the hell did I even say? I put the phone away from my ear and cover the speakers.

"Scarlet. You wanna explain why Eva's telling me I can't be gay? Not that I am, because I'm not and I would never even think about it, I just think that's kinda random for a phone conversation, don't you?" She snorts and takes a shot of who knows what.

"Yeah, you got drunk and asked both of us what we'd do if you were gay. And we came to an agreement that you'd get hotter guys than we could, therefore you can't be gay. So shut up and go fuck some bitches." My sister then throws her head back and laughs before pouring another shot into her shot glass. I glance down at her phone and put it back up to my ear.

"You guys know I can hear you right?" Eva's voice comes through loud and clear with hint of laughter running over. She does not know when to quit, does she?

"I'm completely aware of that now go be drunk somewhere else, okay?" I snap before hanging up on her. She manages to get a yell in though.

Today's too slow and full of self-pity. Tomorrow will likely not be better. My dad doesn't get back home in time to stop me and Scarlet from mixing whatever we have left to drink. He yells a little before storming out the door to who knows where. Not like he's ever in the house enough anyways. He should just leave and make it easier on all of us. Then again…I'd be stuck here with Scarlet all day every day and she'd never stop drinking or smoking or asking me questions about colors that I don't get. But seeing as that's happening anyways…..

I think they're both just teasing me. Eva once drunk dialed me and asked me why alligators changed they're stripes, so it's not like any of us have any control over our motor skills when we drink. I bet it runs in the family. Which is why I suddenly suck at Mario Kart when I drink. You should never drink and drive.  
Scarlet, on the other hand, can drink three bottles and act completely sober. Okay, that's an exaggeration but it's not too far from the truth. She's that one girl at the bar who guys buy drinks for all night and she's as sober as when she got there when she leaves. So….I can't say much for her.

Hey, apparently I get drunk and wonder about the possibilities. Like what if I was gay. Or what if my family wasn't my family and I was adopted. Or what if I wasn't actually a guy. Or what if the earth is not a planet but instead we are a snow globe.

I'm high when I drink. I get high off of life. And I'm not gay.


	12. Chapter 12

Author's Note:  
Sorry for being absent for a couple days, school's getting to the point where I want to strangle a lot of people but at the same time I don't want to because I'm just lazy. Anywho, I had this idea floating around for a while and went through with it. Yaaaay! Hope you all are having a good week! (please kill me before they drag me back to school)  
Please remember to leave a review with any and all feedback, I'd love to hear it! :D :D  
*dramatic pose*  
~Echo

* * *

There is absolutely no way in all of heaven and the nine rings of Inferno that I am gay. And the only reason I know about Inferno is because my old English teacher forced it upon me. Apparently having the third highest test scores in the state and second in the school somehow make you better than everyone else until the teachers feel the need to keep pushing you even though you're probably smarter than they are. But I've always been attracted to girls.

Although, now that I think about it….there was one guy. Way back in like second grade before I knew there was a difference between guys and girls and before I really cared either way. There was one guy. I remember him. He was kinda nice and kinda not, just as smart as me but worked harder than me. He had blonde hair and these amazing blue eyes but I don't remember his name. His hair was short though, and he has this gorgeous perfectly straight smile and I bet he never had to have braces like all the other kids ended up with. He always followed the rules and listened to the teacher but he was always getting switched around to higher classes and he didn't have any friends. He kinda reminded me of me, in a way and he was so cute I remember. So tiny and scared and nice and smart. Perfect, in every way. Yeah. My first crush was a guy. But I didn't know anything back then and now I do so it doesn't really count.

How fucked up is it that I still remember that kid, but I don't even remember his name? I mean, we were never in the same room for more than ten minutes at a time. He was always writing and mumbling to himself while I was talking to other kids and enjoying my childhood, that kid has his nose stuck in a book. Once, I overheard him saying that he was going to be the best someday, and I was kind of a dick and asked him what he meant. All he did was shrug and walk off. The only real conversation we ever had. How fucked up is it really that I still remember feeling all weird every time I saw him? Like one of those stupid, stupid, stupid chick flicks in which the girl and guy never talk but they kiss once and suddenly it's true love. I mean, I guess that's what it was like. But then again, I never really thought about all this until recently.

I still don't remember his name or anything about him. But I do remember that school. It was a good school, I guess. Back when Dad was still trying to push me and Maggie and Scarlet into organized religion, we were told to go there. That little Catholic elementary school where the nuns would teach the class and sing songs with the little kids and education was important. I never bought any of that bullshit about God and whatnot, I guess I get that from Eva. Neither of us ever really believe in anything. But that school was fun and I knew almost everyone there by name and I loved going every day. It just wasn't a healthy religious environment and the rules were really strict and I remember feeling like it was a jail sometimes. That first year, I got hit on the head with a bible all the time. I bet I still have a scar on the back of my neck from that. Yeah, I probably do. The second year was better.

That was the year I met that kid. I remember that, a little. The class, not that kid, I remember him all too well now that I think about it. The teacher I had was this super sweet nun with almost black eyes and light skin. She looked kinda like a ghost, and I think a kid called her that once. Heh. She was totally okay with it, too. But the blonde kid, she kinda favored him. He always got extra attention and extra criticism.

She always had a rosary on, now that I think clearly for a minute. It was red and the paint on the cross was kinda worn and the picture where the beads met was praying hands, I'm pretty sure at least. She always wore it to class and even some of the younger kids had one of their own. I didn't. I was just there because my dad thought it would be good for me.

Maybe it was, maybe it wasn't, but Catholicism kinda sucked for me. My mom pulled me out and sent me to regular school the next year where I pretty much excelled at everything with no limitations of God to hold me back. It was a lot more fun than I would have thought and I ended up skipping most of fourth grade with one of the best test scores.

But that kid, though. I remember missing him. Not him, specifically, just being in the same building as him every day or sharing the same space. Weird, yeah. But it was a stupid grade school crush that didn't mean anything at all. I'm still attracted to girls and a lot of girls are attracted to me, it all kinda worked out.

I still don't remember his name. Maybe if I keep thinking hard enough it will come back. The teacher had always said his name so matter-of-factly or just plain said it quietly like she wanted him to calm down. I know I know his name, I'm positive it's in there somewhere. I have a great memory.

Maybe I'm censoring it out, maybe it's there and I just don't fucking get it because I'm an idiot who can't do anything right. Why am I wasting my own time with this? Why am I thinking about all this now? The nun's rosary was all red and worn out with praying hands. She would always reach up and grab the cross when she prayed, either out loud or silently. I know that. But why am I thinking about it now? Because I've seen her before, because there's something here I'm not following.

I know I know his name, and her name, and all those kids I went to grade school with, I know it. It's like I'm blocking it all out for some reason. I just…..

Don't….

Get it…..

Mihael.

His name was Mihael.


	13. Chapter 13

Author's Note:  
Well. I decided something. Matt is definately the main character, and I love him to death I just need some Mello in my life! So, here you go! The first of hopefully many more Mello chapters to come! I may just make them every thirteenth chapter for luck, you know? Haha, I'm in a good mood tonight, even though this song list is killing my soul it's making me smile! I hope I can make you all smile, too.  
Please remember to leave a review with any and all feedback, I'd love to hear it! :D  
*dramatic pose that is interrupted by random giggles*  
~Echo

* * *

**Mello:**

Mihael Keehl should have burned in the fire that night. He should have. Yet, here I stand, still bearing that name still walking in empty skin, trying to find worth again. I've found it. I have. Somewhere along the line, I'll figure out why. But it's there. The name burned. But I'm still here.

In every corner of my mind, there lurks a pair of eyes. Dark, cobalt and conflicting. Happy and deteriorating. I don't know who they belong to, but in them I see flames. Flames of ice and flames of the soul. The owner of the eyes is walking in fire and is cold throughout it. In these eyes, I see some kind of memory. Like a step out of time. Myself, and another, we walk together until he falls behind. In this vision I always turn back and yell to him, but he's long gone. But he always smiles at me when he falls. Like he knew.  
Shortly after, I stumble upon the road and fall to my knees. Do I see him again?  
No. I don't. I don't make it to heaven, I don't get damned to hell. I just keep falling and falling and falling. And then….

Then, I wake up.

God let us live for a reason. It's what my mother always says after I force myself to get up and begin my trek from my room to the kitchen. She's always been ready before me, but then again, she still teaches down at the Catholic school like she did when I was a little kid. Sometimes, I believe her when I see her smiling and when she tosses me the newspaper like it's nothing. Sometimes, I believe her when she turns a normal conversation into the most awkward one ever, or when she insists on us singing verses together before we go to sleep. I trust her. I trust God, too. Because of her.

Mom's never been the type to give up. Even after the fire, she pushed and pushed to have our home rebuilt. It wasn't the walls she wanted, or the ground or the air or the space. It was the memories. But then again, I don't blame her for what happened. Like most kids might do, blame their parents for their own live being terrible. But life has been better since that night, the night of fire. She still has the scars, like I do. At least hers can be covered with jeans or a dress. The legs are easier to cover than half of your face, even with hair as long as mine.

So…..who do I plan on being with this life God has given me? Some days, I want more than anything to be like my mother and teach the words of God to people, to let them know that somebody loves them, no matter who they think it is. I'm positive not everyone believes like us, but Mom's positive about it. Always saying they'll come around. Always saying we can do better than them. Always trying to prove that we can do this together. I never doubted her.

Of all the things I've learned about the world, I've decided that certain people are certain ways just because they are. Like me, I suppose. I've never really belonged to any one place, or any one category. The Jesus loving groups at school didn't want me, because my mother is a nun. The others didn't want me because I was just too blunt and honest. I refused to lie. Oh well, I'm pleased with the way I am. But other people. They're different. In a way, we all are. Of all the things I consider when my mind is half awake, when the coffee is doing its best to roast. When the kitchen is in the dim light and I'm the only one home. Of all the things I consider, that one is probably my favorite. That we are who we are. And nothing can change that.

Sometimes, when it's just my mother and I on a Saturday, she watches her pointless old romance shows that she likes. Sometimes, I watch with her. I like to see her happy. I like to watch her yell for no reason at the characters, criticize them and then laugh and claim she was joking. It's just enjoyable for me to watch other people be happy. When the show ends, she'll always yawn and then disappear to her side of the house, and I'll just keep watching the same old reruns over and over, watching the couples embrace in a hug or a kiss. And sometimes…..I wish I could be like them. Or at least, know what makes them so happy together.

Other people live their lives so completely, or so deadpan that they don't even know they're living. It's odd, really, to see people either so sure or so dead inside. Never confused or terrified like me. Never showing fear or misunderstanding. Some days, when there's no one else around, I'll take what I need and head into the city. I'll keep trying to find someone who's openly expressing that emotion of fear, but is still content. I've never found one. Not really. There was one, only one, so recent that it stings still. I only met him for a second on the bus. And I know we could be friends. If he didn't stare at me the way he did each Sunday in church. If he didn't awkwardly try to hide his fear and pretend it isn't there. Unfortunately, he's not quite there yet. We could be friends. If he wasn't that way.

In the end of the day, I'm alone again, eating dinner by myself until my mother comes home and collapses at the kitchen counter. So I ask her what's wrong, and she'd say 'God is getting tougher on me.' Before smiling and I'd cook her something to eat before she went to get changed and then went to sleep on the couch. She never eats more than half of whatever I cook. Only the burnt half, though. She never cared for the sweet food. Only burnt for her. How ironic.

Then there's the rosary she always wears. It used to be the one she gave to me, but this one belonged to my father. Whoever he was. I've heard the story a thousand times. She always tells it the same. She knew she was a woman of God, but still she did it. They didn't marry, but they could have, and she would have willingly done it. God gives us all soul mates, she'd always say. Then she'd laugh and remember who she thought it could be before she found the church. How she'd kissed both girls and boys, but gave up her free life to serve God. How she'd met my father shortly after, and how he kissed her beneath the mistletoe on Christmas Eve at an event at the church. How he'd always call to her, how he kissed her and draped a rosary around her neck. How she tried her best to stay with the church, but ended up with him anyways. How she claimed she was a virgin when she wasn't. How she'd hid me for nine months before I was born. And how she'd told everyone that I was a doorstep baby, that God wanted her to keep me and raise me. She knew. And I knew. And I was happy with this story. Because it made me different, and the other nuns loved me. I liked that.

The rosary my father gave to my mother, it's the one around my neck. I know all the colors. Black rosary, like the one Mom wears now, it's for mourning. Red, like the one she gave me, it's for love. That's what the colors mean, for these at least. There's more, but not that matter. I just don't agree that I get the one for love. Seeing as, I've never really felt love, not even the love of God or from my mother. We just exist here, and it's scary sometimes. They give me more comfort than anything. Love. Is it real or is it just another lie religion tries to cover up.

Love, is it? Huh? God promises us love. He does, I'm sure of it. There's a hundred ways He promises us that. But, sadly, the only time I've ever seen anything close to love is in the eyes of the boy who watches me at church, then looks away when I try to talk to him. He hides it. He hides it well. It's almost…..almost….cute.


	14. Chapter 14

Author's Note:  
A little side note; To Hell on A Church Pew just hit 2,000 reads, and I know that's not a lot but I just wanna say how much I love all you readers. This means a lot to me, honestly.  
Here I am again, waiting on absolutely nothing to start writing again. I haven't been too busy lately, I just kinda fell into a rut after posting the last chapter. Like, I WANT to write so badly, but I just can't do it. So…I'll just have to keep trying, I guess. I've also been a little busy planning like four other fics (a couple Death Note, one for Fairy Tail, and one for Free!), since I have no social life whatsoever.  
Hope that everyone's been having a good week so far, and I hope that this can make it a little better! Also, I wanted to send a personalized response to all the reviewers but I'm just too shy, so I'll go ahead and tell you all that I love you and I wouldn't have the courage to keep writing without you guys!  
Please remember to leave a review with any and all feedback, it would mean so much to hear it. :) :)  
(This is random, but I wrote this entire portion listening to the song Homesick by Sleeping at Last, pretty sure I'm all cried out now, have a great day!)  
*dramatic pose*  
~Echo  
P.S: We're still in Mello's POV, I'll remind you when we switch back to Matt *winks*

* * *

I can no longer tell the difference between weekdays and weekends. Everything blurs together. I wake up the same time, dress a similar way every time, eat the same thing, walk the same places, watch the same reruns and think about the same things. It's like this rut is endless. There's a few minutes every day where something is different before it flickers right back to being what it was before. I miss the old days. I miss them a lot. What am I talking about? It's always been this way. Boring, dull, and slow. If I think about it long enough, I realize that I'm just running too fast in a world going too slow. Oh well. It's better this way.

The calendar in the kitchen with my mother's handwriting all over it tells me that it's Wednesday. We'll go to church tonight, and she'll work with the younger children and I'll be practicing with the choir again. Not that I don't enjoy it, it's just a little bit boring to sing the same hymns over and over, no matter how melodic or how upbeat they are. No matter what instruments play them, no matter who sings them. Always the same. Shame.

So instead of dwelling on that thought, I put on a pot of coffee and go back to pacing around the downstairs areas. I'm the only one who'd drink it. Mom's already at the school by now. She didn't even wait for me to wake up before she left. It's a little quiet, not having her joyously hurrying around trying to get ready. Almost unsettling to be alone again. But I do this every day. It's not new.

I wonder if this is how most people my age live. Alone. People my age should be applying to colleges and renting apartments or getting jobs or moving out of their parent's homes. They all know who they want to be and where they want to go. So I'll just remain stationary. It's not as though I haven't been offered any scholarships. The little boy with genius level intelligence and an unstable temper, getting offered to go to the big shot schools, only to not be interested. Oh, irony. You're a beautiful thing.

The coffee tastes a lot blander than usual, but we're out of sweetener. All I do is lean up against the counter and keep drinking it out of an old gray mug until my throat starts burning. Should have let it cool down first, but I wasn't planning on waiting. No need. It's just too hot.

Another empty day followed by another, another boring hour followed by the next. The TV stays off today, though. I'm not interested in watching anything more interesting than real life. Of course, I could always spare a little time to catch up with world news, but where would that get me?

I wonder how he's doing. The boy from church. I wonder how a lot of people are doing. The girl named Marielle who constantly talked about him like he was some kind of monster. Her, too. She's sweet and attractive, but she can certainly hold a grudge. All in all, he didn't seem that bad to me. He seemed a little passive, which didn't make sense, given all Marielle had told me. She had talked without realizing it almost. We all do that. I've done that. It's good to have someone to rant to about nothing, and she looked a lot calmer afterwards. The one thing I've learned to do is pay attention. The world is full of people, people like me and people like him, people like her, too. The more there are, the more you have to listen.  
I wouldn't mind listening to a few more rants, if it would mean I'd get to talk to him a little bit more than I have. It's not an urge to speak to him, it's just that he's a bit less boring looking than everyone else I know already. No one talks to him but the girl who spoke to me. He smiles, but his hearts never in it. He always watches me, and prays I don't notice. He always raises his eyebrow whenever I hold the cross around my neck, like he doesn't understand. He doesn't get it, whatever "it" is. There's no light in his eyes when the pastors read like there is in the other group members. His go dull in some kind of annoyance, like he'd much rather be anywhere but there. His name's been whispered around, the name Matt, like everyone's afraid of him. I heard he's even been arrested a few times. No wonder he's in group now, he needs God to clean up his mistakes. That is, if he even made any. I wonder if he even knows he did something wrong. Always the same irritated expression, followed by a look like a confused cat. Goggles around his neck like he's expecting to use them. I like the way he presents himself, though. It'd kind of bold the way he stands. Makes me wish I could do that. No. the scar always makes people ask. It makes them feel sorry for me. It makes them pity me. No one pities him. That's something I envy. He's calm, yet the way he moves and talks suggest he's bursting with energy.

Why do I waste my time with this kind of thought? Because there's nothing better to do with all the time I have. And I have way too much of it, given I've wasted most of the day trying to decide what it is at all that I feel about him. Is it envy? Possibly. I wish I could be that happy with myself. Looking at my reflection in the kitchen window, even though it's faint, all I see is the glint of the metal cross around my neck, my eyes, and the scar on the side of my face. I guess that's all I am. Just a scar, just a child praying to God, just a blue eyed kid with nothing to do on a boring day.

So what was he concentrating so hard on when he looked at me? Matt, well, he wasn't looking at my scar or my rosary, he didn't seem to care. He was looking right at me, but he wasn't seeing who I am at all.


	15. Chapter 15

**Author's Note: **

And I'm back after vanishing like a huge jerk. But it's not my fault! Well I got most of my emotional issues sorted out as well as getting school sort of on track and even took to drawing a little on the side for fun and yeah. But I missed this story so much that I just had to come back to it ^_^ I felt so guilty for not doing so sooner I had so many ideas for chapters I just ;~;

And after some discussion with my best friend/editor (Terra), I've decided to take it back to Matt's point of view. So this is Matt...don't get confused...But don't worry, some more Mello chapters will come later that I have already planned ***rubs hands together evilly* **

IN OTHER NEWS this chapter is gonna be kind of long to make up for me not writing a lot lately. I actually wrote a lot of this while in my English class...around a bunch of people... ._. so I had to like leave blanks where every curse word was and then go back later...MOVING ON!

Love to everyone out there reading this and remember to leave a review if you read and enjoyed!  
***dramatic pose***  
~Echo

* * *

If anyone knows a more boring way to spend Friday night besides mass breeding Pikachu's in Pokémon Black, they should let me know immediately. Mostly because I'm starting to get sick and tired of carrying five fucking Pichu eggs at the same time in my party and not having any actual Pokémon to fight with. It starts to get old after you run up and down the Skyarrow Bridge for the nine millionth time. And to make matters worse I've been doing this while hanging upside down in a chair for the past few hours or so. My head feels like a balloon and I'm sure it even turned purple a while ago but I just don't care. This is important. Shiny Pokémon are VERY important. You know, unless their stats are absolute horseshit Then it's not as important. But it's still pretty damn important.

I press the X button on the gave and click save, waiting until it loads before flipping myself out of my seat. How long ago did I actually sit down? Had to have been a long time, otherwise my legs wouldn't feel like the static on a TV. Pretty much useless to try and walk around to wake them up, seeing as I can't really move my feet yet. The blood starts rushing out of my head and I feel a little dizzier than before. I fold the DS so that the lid is closed and attempt to move. It's pretty goddamn useless since I just kind of flop over and face plant into the living room floor. The floor smells kind of like old fabric softener. Gross. And lemon scented. Also gross, but not as bad.

There's arguing again that can hear in the kitchen. Wait. It's not about me. that's different. Just a bunch of names flying back and forth between three voices and one that sounds like it's coming through a voice modifier. Or a phone. But that wouldn't be as cool as a voice modifier. I ignore the entire situation and focus instead on getting up. It takes a couple tries before my feet stop being stupid and wake back up enough so that I can walk again. And now I smell like old fabric softener. Yeah that's just lovely. Arguing and fabric softener. That sounds kind of like a cheesy romance love triangle novel. Not that I would know anything about those. I don't. Totally don't.

I stagger back towards the stairs and to my room, tripper a grand total of ten motherfucking times on the way up and twice in the hallway. I guess that makes twelve then. Twelve. That's a weird number. No it's not, what am I talking about? Once I get back into my room, I swipe my phone off the desk and check for messages. But there's none. Of course there's none, everyone else has plans on a Friday night. And it's...six o'clock. That's not that late. I could still find something to do. I'll probably just end up talking to myself until three in the morning again. Or bothering Scarlet to drive me somewhere. I could ask. Supposing she stopped trying to murder whoever it was she had been arguing with in the kitchen. Well it had sounded like her at least.

I could always call Mari and have her drive me. No. Definitely not. She's probably still pissed at me for no reason. There might be a reason. Not one that I care enough to remember, anyways. Other options...

Kennedy? Hell no. I'm not getting in a car with her ever again. Last time it ended badly. And then there are her whore-ish friends that I don't give a single flying fuck about, or even think to remember their names. And it's not like Mom would just hand over the keys to the car. This family has had enough road accidents without me in the picture.

My phone buzzes. Incoming text message. Great. Just what I needed to make this day better. But it's from Mari. At least now I know she isn't pissed.

**_'Ashton's throwing a party. There's alcohol and I don't want to be here so get your ass down here and get drunk so I have a reason to leave.'_**

Alrighty then. After a minute or two of thinking, I text her back.

**_'Which Ashton? Douche Ashton or that other one who isn't a douche'_**

She doesn't respond right away, so I take the time to sit down on my bed and toss my game over so it hits one of the pillows. Eventually, though, I get another text.

**_'Douche Ashton. You know where that is, right? You fucking better now get over here right now Kennedy is my ride and I can't leave so hurry the fuck up'_**

Well aren't you just a polite lady, Mari. Guess I'll have to think it over. On one hand, party and people and drinks. On the other hand, no car and no way to get out since my shoes are in the kitchen. And so is everyone else... But then again, drinks and people and something not so boring.

"God?" I ask jokingly at absolutely nothing. "Send me a sign!" Expectantly, I look around the room waiting for something to happen. It's completely silent. I don't know what I was expecting. "Satan?" I whisper, hunching down a little in a mock form of fear.

The door to my room flings ooen and my dad sticks his head inside, nostrils flared and eyes narrowed. Well that's about as close to Satan as I'll ever get.

"You've got twenty minutes to get out of here. We have people coming over, there's fifty bucks on the table downstairs and the car keys." He says it all in a rush and slams the door. The sound echoes off the walls. My eyes widen.

"Thanks, Satan." I whisper, a little worried that he might hear me, but he doesn't come back. Thank God. Wait that's gotten me nowhere so far. Thank Satan, more like.

Welp. Better tell Mari I'll be there to free her from her party prison. Wait that sounds bad. Or good. Either way.

**_'im on my way don't do anything stupid'_**

Is the text I send her before pocketing my phone and leaving my room. The trip down the stairs is somehow less dangerous than last time until I turn the corner and run into Scarlet, who shoves me over to the side.

"Hey, watch it." I yell as I shove her back. She quietly flips me off and grabs her shoes, which were waiting for her at the end of the staircase. Fuck you, too, Scarlet. Her hair's a lot more messy than it usually is, which says a lot considering it's shorter than mine. And blonde. Blondes everywhere. Luck bitch. She heads around the other corner and I hear the door slam a few minutes later.

My mom's got her head to the kitchen table when I walk in. she kind of looks like she just gave up on life. Sitting in a chair, with her face smacked into a table. Good job, Mom. I snatch the keys up before she can attempt to get up, but it's not like she was going to try to anyways. There's no money, I'm guessing Dad...er...Satan... just threw that part in to get me to come downstairs. Can't blame him. It totally worked.

"Who were you guys on the phone with?" I ask my mom, poking around for my own shoes.

"Your sister." Gee, that narrows it down. She sounds exhausted, though. "Your sister that actually still likes us." Mom says again after a minute. Guess she caught that too. Eva's been calling a lot lately. Not that I'm ever around for it. She only seems to call when I'm not there. I thought I was her favorite. Oh well.

"She say anything interesting?" My mom sits up. There's a red mark on her forehead, but I don't tell her.

"Oh you know. The usual. She told her father to go fuck himself, told me that she'll kill him if I need her to. Oh and she mentioned something about telling you that she's coming to visit in a week or so." Her voice is pretty monotone, which is unusual, but I don't pay attention. By this time, I'm sitting on the kitchen floor, trying to force my feet into a pair of black sneakers. "How long have you been wearing those jeans?" Mom asks me out of nowhere.

"Dunno. A week? Maybe a couple days?" I shrug, finally managing to pull my shoes on and hopping up.

"Well learn to take care of yourself you piece of trash.'' She says it jokingly, but there's a hint of seriousness there.

"I'm not trash. You're trash. Well you aren't trash but you're not as cool as I am. I'm a literal god on earth, look at this face, do you see how amazing it is. You wish you could be this amazing looking." I fold my arms and smirk, but my mother just stands up and folds her arms respectively.

"You know, sometimes you remind me of a Russian Doll. So fucking full of yourself. Now get your ass out of this house right now before I kick it out." Her words sound pretty icy and her expression really looks like a psychotic murderer. Well then. She points to the door and waits for me to leave and I smile weakly before darting out of the room.

"I'll be back never!" I yell before heading out the front door. I can barely hear a response. It's something along the lines of 'I'll be renting out your room when you leave'. Gee, mom. Don't I feel loved.

Ashton's probably the doucheist douche that ever did douche. And the preppiest prep who ever prepped. And the worst motherfucker who ever...I'm not gonna finish that thought. But he knows a ton of people, which means every time he throws a party the cops show up, neighbors complain, and there's trash everywhere that I assume he has to clean up so yeah. It's fun to just mess with other people. Plus he always has killer drinks. And not just alcohol, like literally everything. Once he had Cheerwine. I didn't even know you could by that here. It's the best. And the reason I'm not on drugs. I might be on drugs. Wait no I'm not. I'm pretty sure I'm not. But based on everything that's happened recently it wouldn't be too much of stretch. Wait why am I blaming drugs again? I don't remember anyways. Another thing to point out; Mari's the one who knows Ashton. She's known him about as long as she's known me. always hanging out with him because he's 'better than me'. Yeah I doubt it. Maybe I am a little full of myself. but hey, he lets me crash his parties when I don't get invites. So that's a plus. Downside is that he thinks he can talk to me when I've made it clear I only put up with him when there's whiskey in the equation.

On the bright side, I can drive better than all the women in my family. Not that women are bad drivers. Just all the ones I'm related to.

It's a ten-minute drive to wherever the fuck I'm going. I know how to get there but not where it is, if that even makes any sense. It doesn't make sense but I'm not going to question it. I'll know it when I see it.

Damn this car smells pretty bad. Why must everything smell terrible today? Really? Isn't there some other option besides terrible scents? Like no. Please, reality stop fucking with me.

Ashton's house is the biggest in his neighborhood, which is mostly just two story old houses that look like they belong in a horror movie neighborhood. Then there's his house which is essentially a goddamned mansion. Not really, I don't think he's that rich. There's about twenty cars lined up on the sidewalk and groups of people walking around everywhere. If only I knew how to park. Oh well.

I can literally hear the music and see lights from here. Yep, totally knew it when I saw it. I find a decent spot to park. Yeah who cares if you literally park in the middle of the street anyways? It's not my car. Oh wait. It's not my car... No, no law breaking. Except underage drinking. That's okay. Is that a law? Yes it's a law and I'm a fucking idiot for forgetting that one.

It takes me all of ten seconds to find Marielle. She's off by one of the pick up trucks, pacing back and forth frantically. I'm pretty sure that's Kennedy's car. Not that it matters, it's just the same color as it. Some ugly ass teal that looks way out of place. It's incredibly painful to keep looking at it, but she's still there, pacing back and forth. I take my time walking over to her, but she runs at me like an animal almost, and then starts yelling random jibberish at me.

"Where the hell have you been why are you here anyways I called like ten people why are you just now getting here I really want to go home already so just hurry up and do what you usually do so we can leave." Is all I manage to successfully hear. She's dressed way differently than normally. Her hoodie's nowhere in sight and neither are her Zelda earrings. She's got on skinny jeans and a crop top. Damn. It's arguably a better look for her. Not that she's unattractive in any way I'm just not into it anymore.

"Wait who else did you call?" I retort.

"Only a couple people. Candace, Jake, Mello, Yolanda, and Mark. Everybody else got here already, you loser." She says the last sentence with a hint of sarcasm and a smile. Fuck. She said Mello. God fucking dammit Marielle can't you let your crush go for twenty minutes I'm trying to deal with mine here.

"Okay that's great and why can't they take you home?" Marielle gestures to the entire scene behind her. The sun isn't even completely down yet and there are people on the front lawn drunk off their asses, music blaring from the house and the smell of food. Man, food seems pretty great at the moment.

"Everybody else just wants to dance and get drunk but you only want to get drunk so get drunk so I have an excuse to drive you home and I can just stay at your place, your mom likes me, right?" Oh, and so modest. I'd almost forgotten about that.

"I don't need you around my house anymore. They already got the wrong idea the first time so I'm gonna go get a drink and then you can leave." My reply is pretty snappy, but also true. She rolls her eyes and goes back to pacing like a vulture, circling around me until I grab her arm and drag her inside the house. Mari pulls her arm back and walks beside me.

A couple girls wave at me when I walk by. That's not a new thing. A few guys whistle at Mari. And that's incredibly new, and when she's not looking I scowl at them. It's just easier for us to act like a couple in public. Ugh. But that redhead that waved at me was pretty cute. In a way. I hate this so much. People seem so much more likable when I'm not sober.

Mari disappears somewhere else when I manage to find something to drink. I can't even tell what it is, but it smells pretty off so I'm guessing it's drugged. Or a mix of random drinks. Both could be good, I guess. There are people everywhere, a mix of ages from what I can see around me. Drunken and sober. How do people do this all the time? I'd love to know. Then again my sisters drink every day and are still alive.

I drain the entire cup in less than ten seconds and wipe my mouth off. Yeah. Definitely a mix of drinks. Everything gets a little slower and more drawn out. Just like last time. One drink wouldn't do the trick. I'm just going slowly insane, I guess. Not that it matters. Insane people still get to taste alcohol every now and again. It's great. Kind of.

I get a little swept up into the crowd, laughter and talking surrounding me. ugh. Sometimes I hate these types of thing. I move back over and take another drink before heading back into the heat of dancing and music. It's better this way I guess.

Didn't Mari say that Mello was here? Fuck, if he saw me... not like he would recognize me. I'm the one obsessed with him, not the other way around. And anyways, he's got that goody goody thing going on, I bet. Churchgoer, God enthusiast. Probably hates people who question their sexuality. I would, you know, if I had been raised that way. He probably left already, though. Unless he got drunk of course. That'd be something to see.

"Hey, Satan?" I mutter to myself as I move back outside, scanning for Mari. "Think you could do me a favor?" Nothing happens. But I spot Marielle in a group of people, a few of them have cups in their hands, a few of them don't. A few of them just kind of lingering around, a couple actually talking. Damn. Not looking forwards to attempting to talk to them, but hey.

"Come on, Satan, you can do better than that." I quietly scold. What the hell am I actually talking to, as if that's gonna do anything. I take another sip of my drink, which is getting dangerously low. I scoff, turning around and stepping out of the way of a passing couple and bumping into someone on the sidewalk.

They immediately turn around to say sorry, the same way I did, but I just kind of freeze.

God.

Fucking.

Damn.

Satan really knows how to work his magic. The boy with the burn scar. It doesn't make his face any less pretty, though. He's got on all black and a leather jacket today. He looks pretty great in leather. I need to stop talking to Satan, for real.  
His hair is clipped up a little, which is super weird but also really fucking cute at the same time. And I'm attracted to a guy. Great. Just fucking great. Mello. Dammitdammitdammitdammit nopenopenope not dealing with this today, Satan.

"Sorry..." He kinda trails off after he says it.

"Yeah sorry." I mutter and take the last gulp of my drink.

"Mari called you, didn't she?" How the fuck did he know? Not that it matters, I can just say yes it's not creepy at all.

"Uh yeah actually she texted me." Speak of the devil, Mari practically sprints over to us with a huge smile on her face.

"Hey I was looking for you." She says to Mello. I wish she'd just leave but it's not like my conversation with him was going anywhere.

"Yeah do you still need a ride?" He asks politely. It's horrible but I like the sound of his voice. That's not weird, right? Normal people think about that? Right? Wrong, no one thinks about that.

"In a little bit, Matt just got here." Mari can't you learn to leave me out of this. The sun's starting to go down a little now, thank everything.

"I need another drink." I mumble.

"How many is that?" Mari asks, sarcastically and I hold up two fingers. She laughs and raises her eyebrow. I pretend to act offended before putting my pointer finger down, leaving just the middle. She sticks out her tongue. The boy with blonde hair looks a little confused by this but he doesn't comment. Man, he looks adorable when he's confused.  
Okay brain shut the fuck up you're not helping at all. My eye starts twitching involuntarily as Mari and Mello continue their conversation. And that is also not helping. The blonde haired boy glances over at me with a raised eyebrow. Fuck, have I been staring? I have. He's standing pretty close to me still. I don't like it. I mean I like it but I hate all the thoughts that come along with it I hate all of it and the urge to do some incredibly stupid things keeps getting worse and worse and worse.

"Matt." Mari says, trying to get my attention, but I try not to listen, doing my best not to move or do anything over the top again. I'm still kind of staring at him involuntarily. His eyes are just really really really pretty like the kind of blue the sky is when there aren't any clouds. Not even a dark circle around the edges the way mine are, no just full out bright blue and I both hate it and love it at the same time.

"Fuck this." I mutter before spinning on the spot and grabbing his jacket with one hand, pulling him into a kiss. It takes him a second to react before attempting to push me off, but it's actually Mari that breaks it up. She doesn't look mad at me at all, just kind of pissed. Wait... just a little pissed. I bet she thinks I'm drunk. I'm sober enough to make my own choices. Stupid choices, but still my choices.

Well I can cross kissing another guy off my bucket list now. It wasn't on there before but I guess I'll have to add it. Mello's expression is pretty conflicted, but he's still straight faced. He looks away.

"I'm so so sorry about him just ignore that." Mari says, trying to apologize for me. I don't need her to do that.

"Quit it. I'm not sorry and you shouldn't be either. And for the record, back off, only one person gets to crush on him and that's me." I snap at her. Her nostrils flare, but she doesn't look as upset as I thought she'd be.

"You can take me home now." She snaps back at me.

"Fine go get in the fucking car!" I start to yell and she flips me off and heads down the road to where I had parked earlier.

"Sorry about that." I say to Mello now that Mari's gone. He still looks pretty dumbstruck.

"No, it's...fine...I think..." He manages to say. Dammit. I fucked up, I fucked up. Yep. I have fucked up more than I have ever fucked up before.

"I uh...shouldn't have, but I mean I don't regret doing it just sorry for like...you know..." I stammer, laughing a little in the sentence.

"Hey, I said it was fine, it's fine." He says again, offering a really weak smile.

"Good." I say before tugging him towards me and kissing him a second time, letting go and dashing down the road immediately after.

Mari's waiting in the passenger seat like an idiot, and I fling the door open and step inside, starting the car up the second I get the door shut. She glares at me like she knows I've done something stupid, which I totally have. But she's silent the entire ride back to her house. Before she gets out, she mutters something along the lines of "You can have him, I didn't want him anyways" In a really sarcastic voice before slamming the door behind her when she leaves.

Can't say I blame her. I drive around to random places for a while until the sun's completely vanished on the horizon. Eventually I head back home and all the lights are off. The only logical thing to do is ring the doorbell until Scarlet opens the door in shorts and a tee-shirt, holding a boot up as a weapon and hitting me on the back with it when I run inside.

Well.

At least I did something productive, right? Right.


End file.
